#okay i will say it again tommy is perfect

[hardly-an-escape]

Hope, Actually | Buck/Tommy | 2100 words | rated T

on the last day of Christmas, this writer gave to you... some BuckTommy holiday fluff! Buck watches Love Actually and gets an idea. tags: makeup fic, christmas, love actually, tooth rotting fluff, egregious overuse of italics

Buck gets the idea three days before Christmas.

He and Tommy have been talking again, is the thing. Trying to be friends. It's tentative and a little stilted sometimes and it's… fine. Talking only makes Buck want to jump Tommy's bones about 20% of the time, and peel his own skin off an additional 30% of the time. So that leaves 50% normal conversation, which is fine.

The fact that he's still painfully in love with Tommy is maybe a little less fine, but whatever. Can you even still be in love with a person if you never said you love them in the first place? Can you love them more? Because that's what it feels like. Every time he grabs a beer with Tommy and Chim and laughs for an evening over their latest ridiculous call, he loves him a little more. Every time they text, every time they end up at the same scene or the same bar, he falls a little harder.

But they're trying to be friends, trying to be cool; so Buck takes all that love and puts it away, smashes it down and swallows it and pushes it deep into his belly, and when he feels like it's going to overflow and turn into words he takes the excess and puts it in an imaginary box and shoves it deep inside an imaginary closet. There's probably some kind of irony there, a man taking these feelings he has for another man and putting them in a closet. Buck doesn't want to think too closely about it, to be honest.

And then three days before Christmas he's over at Maddie and Chimney's house. Jee-Yun has finally gone to bed, and they're flipping back and forth between random Christmas movies and drinking wine. Well, Buck and Chim are drinking wine, and Maddie is drinking sparkling grape juice and making a face after every other sip.

"Ooh, Love Actually!" she says excitedly as Chimney channel surfs. "Buck, have you ever seen this one?"

"No… Tommy and I were going to watch it together. I guess it doesn't matter now. He said he wanted to wait until after Thanksgiving, that's why we didn't. Before," Buck says heavily.

"I remember he told me once that it was his favorite movie," Chimney says neutrally. "That was a long time ago, though."

"Yeah, he said… he said it comes across as pretty dated. He said he probably wouldn't see it the same way if he watched for the first time now," Buck says, the words suddenly tripping over themselves to get out of his mouth. He can feel the glance his sister and her husband exchange over his head. "It's like junk food, you know, like… you don't eat a Big Mac because it's a good burger, you eat it because it's what you want, because it's the same every time and there's something comforting in that, even if it's objectively not great. Tommy said… he said he thought there are better Christmas movies, and way better rom coms, but there'll always be something kind of perfect and comforting about this one…" he trails off.

"Do you wanna skip it tonight?" Chimney asks, surprisingly gently.

"No. No, it's okay, we can watch it. I don't mind," Buck says. "But I'm going to open another bottle of wine."

"God, now that you mention it, I could kinda go for a Big Mac right now," Maddie says reflectively.

Later, a little too drunk to drive home, Buck curls up in the middle of the guest bed and lets the movie swirl aimlessly through his thoughts. Tommy was right, he thinks, about it being pretty dated – he can see how some of the stories, which might have hit romantic beats in the mid-2000s, just come off as clunky, or even creepy, 20 years later.

But Buck can also see how it got under people's skin – can guess how it got under Tommy's skin. Even in the clunky stories there's a thread running through, a bigger idea about the diversity of love, about all its imperfections, about the way it can grab hold of you and surprise you whether you're at the beginning, the middle, or the end of your own story.

There's an idea there, tipsy and unformed, about him and Tommy and about what he can do with all the love he's been packing up and hiding away like the hoodie buried at the back of his drawer that only barely smells like Tommy's sweat now. By the time he wakes up and finishes making everybody breakfast, the idea has solidified into a plan.

He has to visit two different office supply stores to get what he needs, and it takes him most of that afternoon to figure out what he wants to write, saving draft after draft in the notes app of his phone before he ever puts marker to paper. At some point he remembers to text Lucy to ask whether Tommy's on duty Christmas Eve or whether he'll be at home.

He's not on the duty roster but I don't know if he has plans, she texts back. Want I should find out?

yes please, he sends. I'm gonna do sthg stupid and i need him to be home for it.

Thank God, one of you idiots needs to figure your shit out before I'm subjected to his sad breakup playlist one more time.

he has a breakup playlist???

An hour later Lucy texts again to let Buck know that she told Tommy she had some stuff to drop off for him, and he said he wasn't planning to leave the house. So the plan is a go.

On Christmas Eve, Buck waits until after dark to drive over to Tommy's house. He's got three dozen thumbprint cookies in tins, a carefully ordered stack of poster board, and about a thousand butterflies in his stomach. This is either going to go really well, or really poorly, and he's honestly not sure which outcome to expect. But he has to do something – he has to try.

He wishes it were snowing. It's barely cool enough to need a jacket. But that's Los Angeles in the winter for you.

Tommy has this particular smile. Buck saw it pretty often when they were first together. It's not his favorite of Tommy's smiles; it's too restrained, starts out wide and then gets reined in, tamped down, as if he suddenly remembered that he's not supposed to be that happy, or not allowed to show it if he is. Buck is pretty sure it's the smile of someone who'd spent a long time being more or less punished for joy, and whatever else happens between them, he's glad that he saw it less and less over their months together.

But Buck sees that smile again when the front door swings open, when Tommy reflexively smiles big, the one that reaches his eyes, when he sees Buck on the porch – and immediately schools his face into something more reserved, more professional. Friendly, but not too friendly.

"Hey. What's up? What –" he trails off as Buck hits play on his phone and Christmas music comes from the Bluetooth speaker at his feet. He picks up his stack of poster board cards and shows Tommy the first one.

Say it's carol singers, it reads in Buck's uneven chicken scratch handwriting.

"Buck, nobody else is here," Tommy says.

Buck frowns and brandishes the sign again. Tommy's smile softens into something wistful, almost sad. "It's carol singers," he calls exaggeratedly over his shoulder to the empty house and turns back to Buck with an expectant look.

Buck flips to the next sign. I watched this movie the other day, it says. I didn't think it was that good TBH.

Sign number three: But I think I understand why people still like it so much.

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.

Buck flips to the fourth sign. I think it's a movie about hope. That no matter how much you fuck up there will still be a way for love to find you.

He had to write pretty small to fit all that on one sign, so he holds it up a little longer and watches something flash across Tommy's face as he reads. He waits until Tommy looks up again to go to the next card.

And now it's Christmas, it says. And at Christmas you tell the truth.

The playlist is on a rendition of "Joy to the World" that couldn't possibly be performed by anything less than a professional eight-part a cappella group. Buck flips to the next card.

You're not perfect, it reads in big letters. The "not" is underlined multiple times. Tommy laughs a little bit, and Buck doesn't think he's imagining the fact that it sounds a little wet, like maybe Tommy is choking up a little.

The next sign: (And neither am I.) We've both fucked up + I'm sure we will again. He's not happy with how this one looks. He'd tried about seventeen times on various pieces of scrap paper to get the damn ampersand right and eventually had to settle for the stupid little plus sign like a middle schooler.

But I still have hope. I have hope for love. I have hope for us. Almost to the end now.

The second-to-last card is a simple one. And… I'm hoping you have hope too. Merry Christmas Tommy.

Buck bends down and takes his time stopping the music and turning off the Bluetooth speaker; straightens up slowly, poster board clutched to his chest. He can't quite meet Tommy's eyes, too afraid of what he might see there, so he looks down at his own shoes until the toes of Tommy's house slippers shuffle into view.

Two gentle fingers tip his chin up. It's so familiar, Buck almost expects a kiss, but instead Tommy just looks at him, soft and tender and achingly open.

"Thank you, Evan," he says, and it doesn't escape Buck's notice that he was Buck when Tommy first opened the door, and he's back to being Evan now.

"It's really not a great movie, Tommy," he says, a little helplessly. "I liked the story about the dad and the kid, and the one with the naked people was pretty good, but this guy?" He shakes a sheet of poster board and it makes that little wooby wooby sound. "Total creeper. And the prime minister is an HR violation waiting to happen, and I don't know if they even have HR in England…"

He trails off, because Tommy is chuckling. Tommy is laughing at him, and his smile is big again, spreading over his face from the corners of his eyes all the way down to the cleft in his chin, and it's one of the more beautiful things Buck has ever seen.

"You're not wrong, Evan," he's saying. "I think I told you, you know, it's like junk food, you don't eat it because it's good, you eat it because it's –"

"It's what you want." They're standing close together, now. Almost close enough that Buck can feel Tommy's breath against his cheek. He can still feel the ghost of his fingertips under his chin.

He's really not sure what to do now. His plan hadn't developed this far, beyond a kind of half-baked daydream of Tommy immediately falling into his arms and passionately declaring his love, although actually neither of them is quite that kind of guy. But luckily, Tommy seems to have an idea where to go.

"Do you want to stay for a bit?" he asks. "Maybe watch a better Christmas movie? Maybe… maybe talk some things over?"

"Yes," Buck is saying before the last sentence finishes emerging from Tommy's mouth. "Yes, please. I brought you cookies. They're in the car, I couldn't – I couldn't carry them and hold the signs at the same time."

"How about I take these," Tommy says, taking the stack of posters from Buck's suddenly nerveless fingers, "and you go get the cookies, and you come inside for a while?"

"Okay," Buck says, and does that.

Just under a year later, when they're decorating for their second Christmas together, Tommy unearths the signs from a plastic tub of fake garland. Evan laughs at himself while they hang ornaments on the tree, still a little embarrassed. I can't believe I thought that would work, he says. I can't believe it did work.

I can, Tommy says, and holds up a plastic sprig of mistletoe, and reels him in for a kiss.

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[meep-meep-richie]

'' We're taking it very slow. In fact I'm letting him set the pace, and I'm just trying to keep up . ''

[llove-me-anyway]

let's talk about how gentle Tommy was with Buck. obviously he wasn't sure if Buck is into guys, he picked up on Buck flirting but he couldn't be sure so they both tip-toed around with questions and then Buck brought up Eddie again and Tommy is surprised that Buck was trying to get "his attention?". so then he just said fuck it and just kissed him and immediately quietly asked if that was okay and when Buck confirmed it was he went straight back to confident and asked him out and idc what any of you say as long as Tommy stays this gentle and kind to Buck he is his perfect first queer love. yea i want buddie too at some point but i'm so happy with what we have now.

[alchemistc]

She's not ...entirely sure this is a good idea.

Even as she raises her hand to knock she's second guessing herself.

The thing is - the thing is there aren't a lot of people in her life who don't take one look at her and make assumptions. She's petite, she's blonde, her face is eerily symmetrical.

When people see her, they think they know her.

Cap is great. The sort of man she wishes she'd known more of, growing up. The kind of man who stood in front of the entire crew and doled out cleaning duties and cooking duties to his men and didn't blink an eye handing her inventory, but pulled aside a guy six years into the job to inform him that if he made a snide comment about having to do Mona's job again he'd be looking for a new station. Respectfully.

The kind of man who let his crew cut loose and created a kind of family behind those bay doors, but didn't take their shit when they got out of hand

The kind of man who looked at her and just saw another firefighter.

Cap is great.

It's just...

Well, the guys don't go to Cap for advice, and she knows once upon a time that kind of hurt his feelings, but this feels like one of those things his husband is better equipped to handle.

("It's because he's older, right?" Cap had asked once, failing miserably at holding in a pout while the team around him demolished the roast he'd obviously spent hours prepping the night before.

Fred had still had half a loaf of bread in his mouth when he explained that talking to their boss about their sex lives just felt like an HR nightmare.

"So you go to my boyfriend instead?")

Mona's still considering turning heel and leaving the way she came when she hears whistling around the side of the house, and before she can make a break for it, Cap's husband is rounding the corner of the porch, winding his hands in a grease rag, and he's catching sight of her, raising a brow, slowing his steps.

He must see the panicked look in her eye.

"I can turn back around and pretend you were never here," he murmurs, the slightest hint of a smile on his face, and Mona feels every ounce of flight just seep from her bones.

Yeah. Okay. She gets why the guys all think he's the one to go to when they've royally fucked something up.

There's an ease to him, a gentleness that she knows for a fact was hard fought.

"No, I..."

The brow ticks up a little more.

"I just found a new sour Evan won't touch with a ten foot pole, if you're gonna be here a minute," Tommy says, and any resistance left vanishes. Mona's been to enough of Cap's barbecues to know his husband always has the best beer in the county.

"Yeah, okay."

Tommy crosses the length of the porch and glances glumly at his greasy hands. "You mind grabbing the door? Evan throws a fit every time I leave fingerprints behind."

She's interrupting his day, she realizes. He's a weird sort of semi-retired - flies for the county sometimes during wildfire season, flips classic cars from their huge ass garage around the side of the house, spends a month teaching courses to new pilots every year out of state and it's always the crankiest they ever get to see Cap. People charter his chopper, sometimes, although lately it seems like he only keeps the thing around so he can take Cap up to watch spectacular sunsets because they're the most sickeningly perfect couple she's ever met.

Mona grabs the door. Shuffles in ahead of him when he shows no signs of moving, and makes her way down the hall to the kitchen because she's been here enough times by now not to feel as weird about how welcoming they both were right away.

He uses his rag to pull open the sink cabinet and grab the heavy duty soap from underneath to wash his hands.

The scent rolls over her in waves, throwing her back about fifteen years to her parents tiny little apartment over the shop, her father's rough and callused hands soaking under shitty water pressure, the grease under his fingernails he could never quite scrape clean.

Tommy tips a chin at the fridge. "Grab me one, too? Bottle openers on the side."

There's an ease to the way he says it, like this is a normal occurrence, like Mona's ever stepped foot across the threshold for anything that wasn't a station-wide get together. She supposes for him it probably is. At least a few of the guys act like he's their dad, wandering into the house without even bothering to knock, gathering around him when he shows up at the station like lost little puppies.

He's used to it.

He hums his thank you when she sets one of the bottles on the island beside him, and Mona glances around to distract herself while he's drying his hands.

A couple dozen pictures of Cap and Tommy, in various stages of their lives.

The fridge is plastered with pictures. A couple she recognizes as Cap's sister and brother-in-law, two adorable kids at their knees. A guy standing next to a kid wearing a cap and gown and leaning on two crutches. An older man she's lovingly heard Cap refer to as basically his dad - the reason they eat better at work than anyone has the right to. A couple she'd seen at the wedding, standing with a kid she remembers Cap staring at like he was seeing a ghost. There's so many people that she doesn't know, but - there's the station pictures too. Candids of the boys when they were living in the Captain's house, back when Cap first got here, when she'd still been a year and a half from graduating high school and didn't have a fucking clue what she wanted to do with her life. The Christmas that Fred had cursed them with the q-word and Tommy had spent the day in the station kitchen putting together a meal they'd all stuck around to eat after shift despite the exhaustion seeping into their bones, all of A shift crammed together around a tiny wobbly table to squeeze into the picture.

She gets stuck on the picture of the two of them in hard hats, building what she's pretty sure is the wrap around porch she's snuck a few cigarettes on when the house gets a little overwhelming. There's something about the way they're looking at each other that makes her want to cry, a little.

Fuck.

Damnit.

Tommy leans over to tap the picture with a grin. "We had a blowout fight the night before our buddy took this picture," he says, the deep grooves of his smile stretched wide across his face. "I'd left my job and sold my house six months earlier to chase him across the country and he was convinced if he didn't find a way to turn every half-thought-out desire of mine into a reality that I was gonna vanish in the night. He bought the lumber without telling me and I came home to him and his best friend ripping out the stairs to the front door."

Mona's instantly drawn in.

He makes them sound like a train wreck.

If she's got the math right, that was her senior year. She remembers seeing them around town and thinking they were annoyingly sweet. She remembers her mom baking Tommy a casserole for the excuse of getting all the gossip about the Captain's mysterious paramour so she had the upper hand at her book club that weekend.

Tommy taps another. The two of them under a pergola, the expressions on their faces so disgustingly smitten Mona remembers wanting to blow a raspberry in the middle of the ceremony. She'd been so convinced she'd never let herself be so fucking dependent on another person for her happiness.

"He kept it a secret that he'd invited my father to the wedding until the night before. I spent most of my night with a punching bag instead of Evan." He points out another photo from the wedding. "The photographer tried to murder me when she saw my knuckles. Evan could barely fit the ring over my finger."

"Who snitched?" Mona asks, narrowing her eyes, and Tommy grins, huffs a laugh. He gestures vaguely at her face.

"You've got the look," he tells her, which doesn't really explain a whole lot. "And none of Evan's crew ever makes their first visit anything but love life issues."

"It could be something else," Mona argues, gesturing with her beer, and one of his brows ticks up. "It's not, but it could be."

"You want something to eat? Evan's been experimenting with cakes again, and the red velvet white chocolate escaped the discards."

"Is my so called look that bad?"

He grins. "Mostly I'm looking for an excuse for cake before noon."

Christ, he's good at this. It's actually a little eerie, how quickly he's set her at ease. It's been over a year and the guys still call her prickly when they think she can't hear them, but she never calls them out on it because they're not wrong. It takes her forever to warm up to people.

"Is that how this usually works? You butter us up with Cap's food and get us to spill our guts?"

He's already digging plates from a cabinet next to the stove. She can't see his expression, but she can picture the grin on his face. "Usually they raid my fridge and put their feet up on my coffee table before I've fully registered that they're here. It's sort of a novelty to get to act like a host in my own home."

That checks out, if she's being honest. They're all a bunch of rabid animals who've been emboldened by Cap's open door policy and his infectious smile and his incredibly hot and talented husband. She's never quite sure if the guys want to be him or screw him - not that Tommy's ever looked twice at anyone who wasn't Cap.

"I think I'm broken," Mona admits, the words coming out in a rush, her eyes on the dutch oven tucked under one of the wide kitchen windows.

Tommy slides a slice of fucking delicious looking cake her way and takes a swig of his beer. Waits.

Mona reaches for the fork and spills her guts.

---

"Oh, hey Mo," Cap says, stumbling his way over the threshold, eyes lighting on his husband and his expression going gooey.

Tommy broke into the rack of Banquet's an hour ago and Mona's pretty sure she's one with the couch. It's a good couch. When she'd told Tommy so twenty minutes ago there'd been a gleam in his eye she didn't understand.

She's still a little too buzzed to worry about the fact that she's oozing into the cushions and emotionally wrecked. She hasn't cried in front of another human being in at least six years. Tommy's probably a wizard, or something.

"Everything good?" Cap asks, and she knows that they've got a sort of agreement - unless Tommy thinks something is gonna affect the work, whatever Tommy talks about with them doesn't reach Cap's ears.

"Men," Mona huffs, and Cap pauses, shoots another look into the living room.

"Yeah. Men."

"No Cap. Men," she repeats, and he nods, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

"Oh. Men," he enunciates, and Mona feels the scowl on her face grow wider when the two of them share a sappy look. It's super fucking inconvenient to be surrounded by the proof of true fucking love when she's trying to convince herself she's already too jaded to find it. "If you wanna stay for dinner I can tell you the story of the time Tommy tried to leave me because he thought he could make my decisions for me."

Even Tommy's scowl is sappy as hell. It's gross. Shes having a hard time convincing herself it's not the best thing she's ever seen.

She tips her neck against the back of the couch to glance up at him. "Who snitched?"

Cap's laugh filters through the room, and right across from her, where the whole world and Mona can see, Tommy's expression goes warm and vulnerable, like the sound has soothed a few decades of wounds. "Word of advice? Never leave Harry with a secret and a crowded room."

[theotherbuckley]

“I need a hair cut,” Evan says offhandedly one morning, his fingers running through his apparently too long strands.

Tommy’s gaze snaps away from the paper held in his hands to Evan. He’s shakes his head, opens his mouth before shutting it again, thinking through his words.

“If you— if you want to,” Tommy says, trying to be supportive of his boyfriend’s decisions whilst already mourning the loss of his Evan’s perfect hair.

“Do you— do you not think I should?” Evan asks, looking over to Tommy. He’s still got his fingers in his hair, brushing the loose curls away from his eyes.

“I— I think it’s cute,” Tommy admits, dropping his gaze and blushing slightly.

“You do?” Evan says, almost in awe. Tommy’s always found it ridiculously adorable how receptive his boyfriend is to praise.

“Yeah, baby. It’s my favourite thing to play with,” he replies.

Evan’s eyes light up, a cheeky glint forming in them, and he smiles. “Your favourite thing to play with?” He says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Absolute dork.

Tommy rolls his eyes fondly. “Second favourite,” he mutters, shaking his head.

Evan smirks. “Okay, well, I still need to cut my hair because it’s getting in my eyes at work. And ever since Eddie grew his moustache, Gerrard has been extra vigilant about everyone’s appearance.”

Tommy winces slightly at the mention of the fire captain, memories of the years of emotional repression and his own wrongdoings rising to the forefront of his mind every time the man was talked about. Tommy tries to shake out the thoughts of the man, focusing instead of the gorgeous man in front of him.

“That’s fair,” Tommy agrees. “But uh— well, if you wanted to keep the curls a bit, I wouldn’t be opposed.” That’s an understatement, he loves Evan’s curls, loves how soft they make him look, how they feel under his hands when he runs his fingers through them, loves how he can tug on them and how loudly Evan responds when he does.

Evan smiles at him, his grin almost blinding like the sun — warm and bright, giving Tommy no other option but to smile back.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Evan says, nodding to himself like it’s the most important thing in the world.

Tommy doesn’t get to see the look until two days later. He’s just come off of a gruelling 24-hour shift, with plans to spend the night at Evan’s house. They’ve been together long enough now that he doesn’t feel he has to dress up for the occasion, not that he doesn’t like to put a little effort in for his man, but he can come home after a long shift and cuddle up with his boyfriend like there’s no where else he’s meant to be.

Tommy unlocks the door of Evan’s apartment, smiling softly as he uses the key Evan had recently given him, still unable to contain his joy at the fact that he gets to have this. He wanders over to the lounge, hearing the sound of the TV playing.

Tommy freezes when he spots his boyfriend. He’s laying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket because that man was always cold. He looks ridiculously cute snuggled up on the couch, but that isn’t what stops Tommy in his tracks.

Nope.

Peaking out of the blankets is Evan’s gorgeous face with his pretty pink lips matching the shade of his birthmark. His hair has been cut, sideburns faded away at the sides, the sides and back of his hair having lost some of their weight, and on top lay light brown curls perfectly fluffy, looking so soft. Tommy needed to run his fingers through.

“Hey,” Evan says, shuffling slightly where he sits so that he can look over at Tommy. Tommy who’s currently staring slack jawed at his head, practically drooling over the sight of him.

“Oh yeah,” Evan says, pointing up to his head. “Do you like it?”

Tommy blinks. “Do I— Do I like it?” Tommy lets out a small laugh. “Jesus fucking Christ, Evan,” he says, finally regaining control of his body as he stalks towards his boyfriend.

Evan tilts his head, confused, but it doesn’t last long because Tommy’s on him in an instant, pressing his lips firmly against Evan’s, swallowing any question that he was going to ask. “Do you. Have any idea. How fucking hot. You look right now?” Tommy says, kissing Evan’s irresistible lips between words.

The corner of Evan’s lips tilt upwards against Tommy’s lips as he smiles. “So you like it?” Evan whispers into Tommy’s mouth, seeking confirmation which Tommy is very happy to provide.

Tommy moves back slightly to slide his fingers through his hair. It’s just as soft as they look. Tommy grins at Evan, “I fucking love it,” he says, closing his fingers around some strands and tugging, pulling Evan until their mouths join once more. Tommy swallows the moans that Evan lets out at the action, gripping him close.

Fuck, he is the luckiest man alive.

[willowed-wisp]

ghost as a dad ( part three ) [ simon riley ]

part one | part two |

- You were surprised when Simon said he wanted to try for another baby when he was hesitant to be a dad before your eldest was born. That was eight year ago…

- he just wants one more, he adores how cute your babies are. And how attracted he gets seeing you pregnant.

- It wasn’t much of a surprise to you when you didn’t feel too great. Exhausted, a bit nauseous but not vomiting and so turned on. Not that Simon was complaining… but he was away, and would be longer than his usual one or two months.

- It would be your little surprise to him- ultrasounds in hand for when he came home.

- Turns out you were about eight weeks gone at the first ultrasound and when the technician started taking a closer look, you started to get unnerved. “Is everything okay with the baby?”

- “The babies are growing nicely…”

- “Did you just say… babies?” Then she faced the screen to you. Two shadows in your belly… “Twins?”

- Too early to tell the genders, but they would be when your Lieutenant returned back.

- You didn’t want to tell anybody before Simon, so you wore baggy clothes- hoping nobody would notice the unusually large belly as you entered your second trimester.

- No birth defects were spotted on your 12 week scan. And you were told a loose guess on what the gender was. But they couldn’t be sure until your 19th week.

- Simon returns back home to his favourite meal. “Where are the kids?” He seemed concerned. You were sat down, no kids in sight and a brown envelope in front of you.

- “They’re over at Tommy and Beth’s, they thought we could do with a night alone,” His face relaxed, though disappointed. He needed his tattoo coloured in again. “I got you something…”

- You took advantage of him opening the envelope to rear your way around the table. In the envelope, was a picture of the ultrasound and the test.

- Let’s just say, he spent a good 20 minutes on his knees hugging your stomach.

- He didn’t care what gender they were just that they were healthy.

- He made sure he was there for the birth. “Mr and Mrs Riley, a boy and a girl…”

- Like what’s been said before… he’s so girl dad coded.

- He had the boys from 141 help decorate the nursery.

- Johnny suggested pink and blue camo wallpaper and Simon nearly hung him from the baby mobile.

- Simon didn’t wish for any of his kids to join the military.

- The amount of medication he takes to get by in the day, he can’t sleep unless he’s at home…

- Simon is perfect for twin duty- holding both on his wings. In his grey fitted T-shirt, a bottle in each hand. Feeding the twins, in that light his eyes were russet undercoated with mauve circles. From the bed, you could feel that heat. The smouldering hearth of fatherly love.

- Simon was born to be a father, he just hadn’t known it.

- Can’t tell them apart and constantly mixes them around when they are younger. Practically identical- peering up to him with his own eyes.

- Simon marvels when the pair just stare at each other. “Are they sizing each other up, or what?” Makes you burst out laughing

- “When I stare at you I’m not planning how to murder you?”

- “Sure about that, love?”

- Simon taught your son to protect his sisters, “you’ve gotta watch our for everyone when I’m here and when I’m not,” and your son definitely listened, because whenever Simon was away- your son would make sure you ate, had put everyone else to bed and would comfort his younger siblings and even your eldest daughter when she started getting bullied and you just knew Simon put him up to it.

- Simon took care of the rest when he was back.

- When your eldest was being bullied and you had to have a parental meeting… Christ on Earth, your husband nearly had the bully’s dad in tears, “Your son ever picks on my li’l girl again… put ‘im in check or I will…”

- You’d never been so attracted to him before. And he gave your daughter a fist bump leaving school grounds, “Get ‘im by the ear next time and drag the bastard to a teacher…”

- Not surprised that the school phoned you the next day.

- You gave Simon an earful, but he wound you down with sweet neck kisses from neck to chest… and ended up riding him on the backseat on the Land Rover waiting for your daughter to finish school.

- That’s how he gets out of most disputes- you’re lucky you aren’t knocked up straight after births

- Your son’s caring and strong attitude stretched into his teenhood- until your son himself started dwelling on joining the SAS. The twins didn’t understand what the SAS were- being 8 at the time your son asked and enquired with his father.

- Simon has never wished for one of your kids to join his career because good men die. He knew that more than anyone.

- But he would train your son to be the best survivor and best trainee he could be

- He turned into a Simon junior, only having a sprinkle of your genetics. Only an inch shorter than his dad but Simon would give him a run for his money

- Simon definitely adapts to different ages very well, he goes all cutesy when they’re kiddos but when they start growing up- he’s more protective and nurtures them.

- He teaches them to look out for each other- like he had with his brother and mum.

- Tells them that if he didn’t come home, to take care of their mumma… but luckily he always comes back.

- He had to, he wanted to see the twins look miles apart from each other growing up.

- Tomboy girl and computer nerd boy.

- Simon loved his family, even when being used as a makeup mannequin and a nail polish model from your youngest daughter when playing dress up with the eldest

- It was different to the war paint he used around his eyes.

- He’d even let her put a bow in his hair.

- BRIGHT PINK BOWs, you’ve never laughed so hard and your military-bound son shakes his head.

- Every birthday that goes around he always whispers to you, “This is what I come home for…”

————

masterlist

taglist:

@thychuvaluswife @foxygirl-4287 @1-800-g00ber

[peppermintquartz]

"What do you think? Should Eddie go for it?" Buck asks, showing Tommy his phone screen.

Tommy leans down, narrowing his eyes at the messages Eddie's shared. "Sounds like she's interested, but not for anything long-term."

Buck beams over his shoulder at his lover. "Perfect, right?" He puts the phone back to his ear and says, "You heard what Tommy said. Yeah, I do think you should go for it, just ask her out for drinks at a place she chooses. And be comfortable with her taking your photo to share with her friends, okay? It's for self-preservation."

"Man, I didn't know dating casually is so much trouble." Eddie sounds grumpy. "Also, it's odd you don't wanna Facetime. You okay?"

"He's very fine, but if you see what we're doing, you won't be!" Tommy calls out from where he is behind Buck.

"Eww! Buck, really? You're talking to me in the middle of... that?"

Buck snorts and reaches behind to smack Tommy in the thigh. "It's just a back massage! He's a goddamn troll sometimes."

"I've oiled him up, and I'm sitting on a towel over his ass," Tommy narrates, adding, "so you can imagine my condition, hmm?"

"Ugh, no! That's good for you but EWW stop putting pictures in my head. Bye!"

Buck laughs so hard he almost drops his phone. "I'm in my shorts! And you're completely dressed and you're not even in the mood right now, you jerk."

As Tommy digs his knuckles into a particularly tight knot, making Buck moan like a whore, he says, "I only posed a question. He's the one picturing me in obscene ways." Then he pauses. "What if I give him a sexuality crisis?"

"That would be the, what, fifth one in your friend group?" Buck is melting into a puddle of relaxation. He can't even be mad about it once he's learned that he isn't the first person to question whether he is truly heterosexual after interacting with Tommy. "You gotta use that power sparingly, Kinard."

"With great power comes great responsibility?"

"Somethin' like thaaaat. Oh, again. That's the ooooh that's the sore spot." Buck exhales. "Plus, I can't fight all of them if they decide to abduct you and turn you into their love puppet."

"Aww. Don't worry, I will remain the love puppet of one man and one man only." Tommy leans forward again to kiss Buck on his shoulder. "So, puppet master, where else do you need attention?"

[magniloquent-raven]

this post has been haunting me. i'm weak for beefy men in pretty underwear and @theweewooshow left an open invitation in the tags that i could not resist 😭 i was gonna say i can't believe this is the first fic i'm posting about these two, but honestly it kind of tracks.

hope yall enjoy!!

**

One of the things Tommy's always liked about Evan is how emotional he is. Expressive, is the word, maybe. Vibrant. It was one of the first things he noticed when they met. Poor kid was radiating nerves. The way his hands fidgeted in his pockets, and he wouldn't stop pacing while Tommy was double-checking their gear.

It's kind of fascinating to Tommy, watching Evan light up when he's happy, wilt when he's tired, always seeming to feel every emotion with his entire body.

All that to say...Tommy notices right away that something's up. There's a tiny, reactive part of him that wants to say wrong, something's wrong, but Evan's not pulling away, he just. Froze up for a second. It could've been a twinge in his bad leg when he climbed into Tommy's lap, or any number of other blips that won't completely derail the nice evening they're having.

But on the off chance...

Tommy carefully rearranges his grip, settling his hands comfortably on the small of Evan's back instead. "Everything okay?" He keeps his tone as light as his touch, and watches Evan's expression closely. Their eyes meet only briefly.

"No, uh, yeah." Evan's gaze skitters down, roaming Tommy's face, then darting away. "I, um." He grimaces, and shifts in place. The warm weight of his thighs is distracting. He's still a solid presence in Tommy's lap, and making no move to change that, despite his sudden singular focus on toying with the drawstring of Tommy's sweater.

The corners of his mouth are pursed into a frown that Tommy thinks about kissing away. That thought gets gently pushed to the side. Talking first, he reminds himself. Especially because... "If you're not in the mood anymore, that's okay."

Those—pink, perfect, God—lips part around a huff, half-curved into a grin. "That's kind of the opposite of the problem," he laughs.

Tommy can't help but mirror the smile, even if it's only a tiny one. "So, what is the problem?" He trails his fingertips up the line of Evan's spine, and down again, retracing the path when he feels Evan lean into the touch.

"It's...well, not hard to explain, exactly, but. I kinda wasn't expecting to explain..." He sighs, loud and exaggerated, and falls forward to plant his face in the crook of Tommy's neck, where he continues, slightly muffled, "How do you feel about lace?"

It's not what he was expecting to hear. Though, he's not sure what he was expecting. "Can't say I've thought much about it, to be honest."

He dated a girl back in the day who liked lingerie. She was always asking him what he thought about various scraps of silk and velvet, and it was all...very awkward. He always told her he'd like her just as much in cheap cotton and a borrowed t-shirt, which. In retrospect, was ironically true. When she broke up with him she accused him of being cold. Withholding. He brushed it off as neediness on her part.

He suppresses a wince at the memory.

Evan wraps Tommy's drawstring around his index finger, slowly curling it around his knuckle. "My ex. Taylor. She liked it. She liked...me. In it."

...Oh?

He can't picture it. Not in a bad way, he's not put off by the idea—very much the opposite—but when he tries, the mental image just...blurs. His brain is trying to mesh Evan with his hazy memories of things he never paid much attention to, and it's coming up frustratingly empty.

Tommy is very proud of how calm and steady he sounds when he says, “And…this was something you liked too?”

Warm air tickles the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Why are you telling me this now?” He feels like there’s something he’s missing. Something obvious he should have realized, if only he wasn’t so preoccupied with the way Evan’s thighs are flexing, his hand sneaking under the hem of Tommy’s hoodie, skin-to-skin, palm skimming his side, and the hot, tingling press of mouth-on-neck.

“Wanna find out?”

The second he nods he almost wishes he hadn’t, because all at once Evan is gone, and Tommy’s left sitting on his couch in a horny daze, blinking up at his slyly grinning boyfriend. As nice as the view is, his lap is cold now.

Evan thumbs his waistband. There’s excitement sparkling in his eyes, bright and shining, but he hesitates a moment before taking a deep breath and dropping his shorts around his ankles.

Oh.

So…lace. Tommy’s having feelings about lace. Not much in the way of thoughts yet. But feelings, definitely. The sudden rush of heat that burns through him leaves him a little light-headed, all the blood in his veins fizzing like he’s a can of soda someone just popped the tab on. His fingers itch to reach out, he aches with want, desire pooling low in his gut.

Thing is, they’re not even anything too fancy, as far as Tommy can tell. He has vague memories of his ex—and good God does he suddenly feel like he owes her even more of an apology—in complicated woven ribbons and things that probably looked like a crate of bungee cords in whatever bag they came in. Evan is just wearing…panties. Simple, pale blue, lacy panties. There’s a little bow on the front, and it’s unreasonably cute.

Evan hikes up his t-shirt a little, so Tommy can get a better look, presumably. Which he appreciates. He’s losing his mind a little over the trail of light blond hair under his belly button disappearing into soft blue lace. He wants to follow it with his tongue.

The attention is making Evan hard. Tommy’s not sure what his face is doing exactly, but whatever it is, Evan seems to appreciate it. He’s filling out that pouch in the front so fucking well, it’s making Tommy’s mouth water.

“So, uh. Good?” Christ, he sounds breathless and Tommy hasn’t even touched him yet.

It takes all of Tommy’s willpower to drag his gaze up to Evan’s face, but it’s worth the effort. His cheeks are flushed a happy pink, creased by a grin he’s failing to restrain even with his bottom lip trapped by his teeth. The blue in his eyes is a nearly-invisible ring around his dilated pupils, and shadowed by his heavy-lidded expression.

“Evan,” he says, a little hoarse. It’s all he can say without laughing hysterically at the sheer understatement of good. Without telling Evan, in detail, exactly how badly he needs to suck him off through that fabric. How vividly he’s imagining what it would feel like against his own cock, wondering if he could cum just from rutting against Evan’s lace-clad ass while he squirms and begs to be fucked properly.

And more importantly, it’s all he needs to say.

The rest he can just show him.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨? || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when medical supplies run out in Jackson, you volunteer to go to the mall as an alibi to get goodies for your family, only that your husband Joel isn’t pleased with your decision.

warnings_ age gap! (20s/ 50s) but not specifically stated so do what u want, protective! Joel, chill mother! reader, fluff, implied sex, smidge of angst, fallacy references. NO PROOFREAD

notes_ fallacy family is back, I missed them so much, I just re-edited the whole story, recommend reading it again although is not necessary for this fic.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚)

��� ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

• 「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」 

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒

1. Wash hands and prepare the wound. ... 

2. Use your needle driver to grab the needle. ... 

3. Use the tissue forceps to expose the side of the wound you'll begin the suture on. ... 

4. Push the needle through the skin at a 90-degree angle about a centimeter to the right of the wound.

You read out loud with perfect grammatical rules, leaving perfect timing between commas and periods. It’s been a year and a half since you started teaching and a new cycle had begun by late summer. 

“Now follow the pattern I just demonstrated and I’ll pass around to see your progress” you softly indicated with a smile to your students. 

Everyone was great, you held back a new smile when you passed by Ellie’s table. She smirks at you in disguise and you give her a thumbs up to cheer her up.

Mrs. Miller is so hot, you’re so lucky to live with her….

You want to laugh so hard after hearing Ellie’s friends failing to whisper those words. 

Everyone knew you were married to the mighty Joel Miller. The town knew you were Tommy and Maria’s sister-in-law. They knew you were a great nurse and teacher. And they loved it when they heard Mrs. Miller would organize the holiday events of Jackson. 

“Okay, guys. You did great. Tomorrow we’ll keep the practice of sewing and cleaning superficial wounds. Now get out of here” They happily started leaving one by one saying goodbye to you. 

Ellie seemed to be arguing with his friend. She continuously rolled her eyes and sighed until the boy smiled at you and left. So you raised an eyebrow towards the girl and she stood up finally.

“Are you coming back home with me or are you gonna go play with your friend?” 

“Jesse is not my friend and of course, I’m going home with you. Rosalie and Rae are still coming for dinner, right?” You nod at her, giggling because of her attitude.

“You should take Jesse as your friend. He is a nice boy” Ellie only rolled her eyes once again.

“He’s annoying as well as his other friend named Dina. They are awkward and they are not as funny as Rosalie, Cerise, Joel, and you” she admits closing her backpack.

“Aww, Ellie! That’s so sweet of you…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… But let’s go, your baby must be very fussy” 

Damn, she’s right. Your little baby was a bolter, Cerise Miller was eleven months old. She had started trying to waddle and she often repeated vague words. Usually courtesy of her father; Joel loved his little angel and always talked to her.

You would never get tired of going straight to your little family after a long day.

“Would you like non-flour biscuits and steak for dinner?” Ellie nodded smiling but then frowned.

“You know I’d love to but… our rations for the week won’t be enough… Oh, and don’t you dare to ask Maria and Tommy for more, that would be very embarrassing” she said as you could only be laughing at her.

“You wouldn’t mind if I asked them, you don’t want me to do it because that would give you less right to be mean to them” 

“Maybe…” 

After closing the classroom, you and Ellie exit the little building that served as a school. It was the middle of the week and summer remained peaking as autumn was around the corner.

“Hey… Can I ask you a question?” Ellie nodded at you.

“Sure…”

“Do your classmates think that we are like… mother and daughter?” You asked with a shy tone. 

The streets were kind of busy as you and the fifteen-year-old girl started your way towards home.

“Nah… they know were like… friends or sisters? Besides… everyone knows you’re very chill” she admitted.

“I ain’t a chill person. I’m fair… that’s it”

“You’re chill, y/n. With your students, with your friends, with me, with your daughter, and even with Joel. And that drives him crazy” You smiled at the thought of your handsome husband.

A couple of weeks ago, the man came and decided to celebrate your first wedding anniversary by taking you to the same strawberry field where Cerise was born. It was romantic, then Maria arranged a little dinner for you two while she and Tommy took Cerise and Ellie for the night. That night Joel fucked you so damn good that you had to be very careful the following weeks, thinking you were pregnant once again. False alarm.

“But you shouldn’t be very chill with the other kids in class,” Ellie said.

“Why?”

“The boys are always drooling for you, especially the older ones. They keep saying you are a MILF” your eyes were wide open after she said that.

“Oh.”

“You know what that means”

“I sure do,” you said avoiding her gaze as you crossed another street.

“Can you tell me what it means?”

You’re a chill teacher, friend, mother, and wife. So you nodded at her.

“I can tell you, but I don’t to hear you saying it”

“Sure, man. I promise” Ellie sweared.

“It stands for Mom I’d Like To Fuck…” Ellie blushed immediately, making you laugh embarrassed as well.

“I told you so…” you said, finally arriving home.

You open the door of the house and the first thing you notice is Maria and Tommy’s kid there. He smiles and you lock the door before kneeling to greet him.

“Hello, kid. How are you? Have you been taking care of my angel?” You questioned the two-year-old boy with a kiss on his cheek. He could only coo and giggle.

“My little man has been a gentleman with Cerise since we arrived” Maria appeared with your daughter in her arms. She immediately asked to be in your arms and started squirming.

“Hi, little heart” you greeted her, kissing her hair that smelled like plums and sugar like her shampoo. She had the same soft hair and kind eyes as Joel. Something that always made you smile.

“What’s up, Cerise?” Ellie greeted your daughter, taking off her shoes and hanging her backpack near the entrance of the house.

“Okay, little man and I need to leave. We promised Tommy to have a movie night and they are almost back from patrol. Must get going…” Maria announced giving a quick hug and a squeeze on the hand of Cerise before saying one last goodbye and leaving with her kid.

“Hey, y/n. You never said how you got more meat for dinner?” You smirk to yourself, placing Cerise in her baby walker. It was old as hell, probably from the nineties. Joel had said it looked very similar to the baby walker Sarah had. 

“Let’s say Star and I went to have a little hunting trip” you revealed, entering the kitchen and being followed by Cerise.

“If Joel finds out, you’re dead” 

“I’m the chill wife. What can I say?” Both of you started laughing. 

“Just be careful, y/n. Please…” Ellie said, so you reassured her by squeezing her shoulder.

“Always, Ellie. For my family, always…” 

“Sudden change of subject but you know what would be awesome? A new lunchbox…” you turned to look at her backpack. It was the same backpack that traveled from the Boston QZ to Jackson. The lunch you made for her usually was a mess after a couple of hours.

“I’ll see what I can do to get you a new one. I also need new clothes for Cerise, farting isn’t enough to deflate her, she keeps growing” Ellie started laughing.

“Mind you, she’s your daughter, y/n”

“So? She’s my little heart but she’s still a stinky furball at times” you said kneeling to kiss and annoy Cerise, who cooed and screamed in happiness.

-

When Joel arrived home the sun had almost disappeared completely. He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Ellie and you chasing Cerise, who was still on her baby walker, cooing loudly. 

A big smile was planted on his face.

“Joel… Is that you, honey?” You asked, sounding agitated.

“Yes, dear.” You appear in his line of vision, wearing a pink sundress and bare feet.

He greets you in his arms, giving you a big kiss.

“Mmm… I missed you” you admitted.

“We made love this morning, y/n”

“So? We can be apart half an hour and I’ll miss you like I haven’t seen you in a year” he chuckled, kissing you once again. Only to be interrupted by something colliding at his feet.

Both of you look down, encountering Cerise, who has a toothy smile.

“Da-da… dad!” Joel immediately picked her up. Ellie came to the scene too, drinking from a glass of water and spreading some hair away from her face, only to greet Joel and then disappear upstairs.

“Hello, angel” It was a rare day when Joel didn't wake up questioning if he wasn’t dreaming. Even a year after coming back from Salt Lake City with Ellie and you, he couldn’t believe his new life. Where he lived near Tommy, he was married again, now working, unlike the first time. His wife was a young woman and gave him a daughter. 

“Rosalie and Rae got caught up with work so they won’t join us for dinner. But they’re coming tomorrow with Tommy and Maria” Your husband nodded at you, playing with Cerise as she fought to grab Joel’s beard, which tickled her but couldn’t stop doing so.

“Oh, that’s terrible” his sarcastic tone was evident, which made you smile.

“What? Darlin’ you know I only want to be with my girls” Before he could hug you from behind, he placed Cerise on the carpet of the living room.

“Go take a shower and tell Ellie to come down, Texas” Your playful smile resulted contagious to him, so he got closer to kiss your cheek and spank your ass before leaving upstairs too.

-

Just by the time your family and you finished dinner, Cerise was already upstairs sleeping with Ellie. You and Joel were cleaning up the dishes as you listened to an old cassette player and said bad jokes.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door and both of you exchanged looks.

“I’ll take it…” you said.

When you open the door, you see Rosalie standing.

“Rosalie… What happened?” 

“We need you in the clinic. One of the technicians had an accident and needs a little surgery” you gasped, feeling Joel coming to the door to slide a hand in your waist as he heard Rosalie.

“That’s why the power went out for some seconds?” Joel asked and Rosalie nodded.

“Yup… please, y/n” you nodded.

“Let me get my hoodie. Joel, Can you stay and check on the girls?” 

“Sure, go on, darlin’…” 

After another big kiss, you hurry along with Rosalie to get to the clinic.

-

“He is going to be fine, just one broken finger. There’s just one problem, we don’t have any cast…” Maria and one of the council members sigh, looking at each other. Jeremy was a thirty-four-year-old male technician who fell while trying to fix some wires. He had a little concussion and you stitched two of his fingers that were slightly burnt. His broken finger was the issue until you remembered the mall near Jackson. 

“Maybe we have some materials to improvise a cast…”

“Or I can make a quick trip to the mall and get some supplies.” 

“Maybe it’s not the best idea, y/n…”

“You know it’s mostly clear, perhaps one or two infected but it’s okay. Besides… I’ve proven to be trustworthy to go…” you had done some patrols along with Tommy and Joel, and they didn’t have any complaints about you. 

“I guess not… Have you been inside the mall before?” 

“Yes…” you lied.

The truth is you wanted to go alone to take your time. You had gone to the little abandoned market before, but the mall was different. While your priority was the medical supplies, you also had other interests. You wanted to get Ellie a new lunchbox, clothing for Cerise, and some flannels for Joel.

“Alright. Joel is going with you” Maria said and you nodded but maybe you wouldn’t let him know. He’d lock you before letting you go to the mall alone.

“Hey… Is it too late for a haircut?” You asked her.

“Nah… let’s go.”

-

The following morning, you leave a note for Ellie telling her the truth. And for Joel, a note that said you were going back to the clinic and then to school, that he take care of Cerise, and that you loved him so much.

After a quick breakfast, you ended up at the stables, saddling up Star.

“Goin’ somewhere, darlin’…?” Startled you don’t dare to turn back, but you know it’s your husband.

Shit, he’s gonna fuck me… and not like I’d want to.

“Oh hi, honey”

“Don’t bullshit me with that. Were you planning on tellin’ me you’re going to the mall alone?”

“You would’ve said no and we would’ve argued…”

“I’m coming with you. Now quit talkin’ 'cause I’m not very happy with you right now” he said, going for his horse.

Once you are ready to go, Joel finally faces you.

“You changed your hair…” you looked different, still gorgeous to his eyes.

“Yeah... Maria helped me out yesterday after the clinic incident. You like it?…”

“I love it, baby.” He had you blushing like a teenager and you hadn’t even left Jackson yet.

“Thanks, Joel” he smiled, knowing he couldn’t be mad at you any longer.

“Oh what the hell, come ‘ere, gorgeous.” You get close and he leans to passionately kiss you.

“I have the hottest wife, you know?” Pushing him gently, you start going back towards Star, avoiding his eyes with a giant smile.

“And I have the hottest husband, you know?” 

“Deaf with a demolished back but I’m your old man,” he said, hugging you from behind, letting you he was half hard while feeling his cock against your ass.

“You got hard with my new haircut?”

“Course’ I would, darlin’. Can’t wait to see those little bangs against your forehead when I get you riding me” You sure reached a new level of embarrassment at that moment. And you thanked the stables were clear of humans.

“OKAY-… where did you leave my daughter, Texas?”

“Our daughter is with Tommy, California Dreamin’…”

“Good. Let’s go then…” you said smiling, finally leaving the town.

-

The mall was definitely not what you expected.

“So people used to come here to eat, shop, and just hang out in general?” Joel nodded, cautiously holding a flashlight with one hand and his rifle with the other.

“That’s right, love” 

“This reminds me of the library you took me back in Boston” Joel sighed.

He remembered the man he was back then. Still grieving his past, being cold and mean towards the woman he saved. You were a broken and weak woman. And yet, you always smiled at him.

Your birthday was coming and Joel was tired of your intellectual talks, so he took you to pick some books. Now he understands he did that because deep down he already loved you back then.

He could also see you had bloomed into a new woman, and he couldn’t help but feel like he had fallen in love again. 

“I was an asshole towards you.” He admitted walking through the mall.

“You were. But neither of us gave up on each other. And look at us now….” you optimistically said.

“We have a house, we have jobs, two kids and we’re having a date in a scary abandoned mall” Joel chuckled.

“This ain’t a date, baby”

“It is, shut up, Joel,” you said.

Since the priority was the medical supplies, that’s where you headed first. Then, you dragged Joel to get Ellie’s lunchbox, the only one available was one of Wonder Woman so you took it. Then, thankfully, you found a baby store.

“Oh my god! Look at these, Joel! She’s gonna look so fucking adorable!” You said showing him a pair of cowgirl boots.

“She could match you. Since you really love your boots, baby” Joel teased, crossing his arms, allowing himself to relax just a tiny bit. He knew you loved your brown boots, you wore them the whole year. With jeans, skirts, dresses, everything.

“Okay, just the boots and this adorable set of seasonal pajamas” One set was purple with orange and corn candies for Halloween, the other had pumpkins and pies, the other one of hearts, and a last one of snowflakes, cookies, and Christmas trees.

“Have you seen how Cerise is starting to bite everything?” 

“Her teeth must be coming soon…” Joel confirmed, taking your hand to lead you out of the store.

Besides the baby store, there was a place full of underwear, perfumes, and feminine stuff.

“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”

“Lingerie and womanly stuff store” you nod, getting a closer look. Some pretty sets had you imagining modeling them for your husband.

“And what was her secret?”

“Oh c’mon, baby, let’s keep going.” He said gently pushing you.

“Wait. Don’t you want to fuck me in one of those sets?” Joel blushed and acted like he was debating whether to agree with you or not. But both of you knew the real answer.

“Your silence says it all, Joel.” And with that, you entered the store.

It was completely stocked and seemed like nobody had come in hopes of scavenging something.

“This is so pretty…” you say grabbing a black bra. Joel could only follow you like a lost puppy.

“Joel… pink or purple?” He looked at the two options and pointed at one.

“Pink…” 

“Naughty boy…” you said smirking and he rolled his eyes.

“I like this one…” Joel showed you, it was a seen-through tulle nightgown in maroon and lilac tones.

“Then we’re taking it home with us too” You finally start packing all of your favorite ones and you notice there's still some available space in your backpack.

You load your gun before nodding at Joel, letting him know you are ready.

“Where is your bow?” He asked.

“Left it at home…” you had gotten very good using the bow and arrows and with Joel teaching you how to skin animals, you often went on solo hunts. Not that he knew that.

Suddenly both of you grow quiet after hearing something shatter and then crashing nearby.

Joel indicated you to keep quiet while peaking through the entrance of the store.

A clicker passed by and you had to hold a big scream by covering your mouth. Since those things were blind, you were safe for a moment.

“Stay behind me…when I tell you to run… we run, y/n. Understood?” He whispered inches away from you.

“Joel… “ you whispered back when you saw the clicker entering the store. He protectively stood in front of you and pointed at the infected in case of anything. You also gripped the trigger of your weapon.

The disgusting sound of click click click was driving you insane. But you and Joel were so close to the exit that neither of you noticed the frame of a poster on the floor, so when Joel tripped over, the clicker immediately reacted, jumping towards the sound, and ending on top of Joel.

“JOEL!” 

One bad aim and you could kill Joel, so you have to act quick and smartly. The clicker moved extremely fast while your husband tried to push him away. 

“Run, y/n!” you wouldn’t leave your husband alone. Never… 

With zero patience and lots of faith, you shot twice, and to your luck, both bullets went straight to the clicker’s head. The dead body of the creature was lying beside your husband. So you ran to help him.

“Are you okay? No bites, right?” Joel hurried to calm you, leading you outside of the store, finally.

“No bites, baby. I’m okay” You nodded, sighing in relief.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here” you added, hearing the distant sounds of more clickers approaching, probably from the second floor that was actually below where you had been collecting stuff.

-

The way back home is slightly quieter. Joel knows you were still a little taken aback by the incident back at the mall. So as the two of you were still riding your horses, he turned to see you.

He adored his wife so much.

“You were amazin’ back there, baby” 

“What?”

“Yeah, the way you perfectly pulled the trigger and killed the clicker. Your hand never shakin’…” you smiled briefly.

“I just wished you were… immune too. It would be a little less stressful” Joel sighed.

“Hey, I’m not immune but I’m perfectly capable of coming back to you. I’ve done this for more than twenty years. And for you and the girls… I’d do it forever” 

“Aww, honey. I love you so much!” 

He is in love. He can’t recognize the woman you have become. You are stronger, funnier, and more vivid if that was even possible. And he knows you can’t recognize the man he transformed into. A man who treated you with adoration. Who wasn’t afraid of showing how much he loved you. 

“You know? You were my savior once but now… you are the reason why I will save myself every time. To come back to you and the girls too…” 

“I love you too, y/n. So fucking much, baby”

“I know…” you said cheekily, smiling at him.

It was then that a sudden memory came to you, making you giggle.

“Hey Joel… Want to know what Ellie’s classmates call me?” Joel frowns confused but then nods.

“Sure?…”

“They say I’m a MILF” Joel couldn’t help but laugh hard, on the verge of tears.

“Well, you are, darlin’… But that’s a pleasure I will be the only one to have” you blushed.

“Of course, I would not risk my life at Victoria’s Secret for any other man than you, Joel” he remembered the sets you got and he could feel himself getting hard again.

“Fuck… I miss Cerise and Ellie but I really want to get back to having you in bed with all those sets you borrowed” 

“Fine, but you clean the dishes and kitchen today” he nods, smiling cockily at you.

“Sure, now let’s get going, Mom I’d like to fuck…”

“JOEL!” He loved teasing you and seeing you get all flustered. 

______________________________________

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Wonderwall

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 4,550 Summary: Your ex boyfriend Simon is marrying Sabrina, the woman he left you for. You were sure you'd have have a date in time for his wedding... too bad you were wrong. Once again. your best friend Maria has to save the day by letting you use her handsome, single brother-in-law that owes her a favor as your date. Warnings: fluff, idk what's going on with me but there's so much fluff, soft joel, fake wedding date, rom com vibes, crying over a broken vibrator, no outbreak, maria and tommy are married, sarah and kevin live, british ex boyfriend, reader and joel are close in age (reader is 36, joel is 40), alcohol, i know the gif is marcus pike but i can't stop seeing young joel in this gif, anyways here's wonderwall, no use of y/n, not beta read

A/N: This was written for @justagalwhowrites' Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. Thank you to the always wonderful @ohheypedrito for suggesting the fake dating trope when I asked her what to write.

Masterlist

Fizzy mimosas, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and sweet maple syrup. Brunch on Sundays with Maria has been a long standing tradition for the two of you. Fifteen years of friendship kept stronger by always promising to make time for each other no matter what is going on in your lives.

These days, Maria’s raising a toddler while building a very successful career in the Austin district attorney's office whereas last night you cried over your vibrator dying while trying to pull an orgasm out of you for an endorphin rush. God knows you need one.

You’ve been in a hole since the arrival of Simon’s wedding invitation. The man you spent your most youthful and fulfilling years with is now marrying Sabrina, the beautiful co-worker he crashed your relationship for. Yeah, yeah, your twenty year partnership was already headed for the cliff, but her perky tits and pouty lips sure did speed up the demise. 

“So, Simon’s wedding is next weekend, how do you feel?” Maria interrogates from across the table.

“Fine!” you stuff a pancake triangle into your mouth. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”

“Mm,” she lifts a skeptical eyebrow. Why do you lie to her? She makes three figures locking away liars, she can spot them a mile away. “Let me guess, you still don’t have a date?”

“Ugh, no, why did I mark two on the RSVP?” 

“I told you not to,” Maria shakes her head 

“Yeah, but, I-I want to show him I’m doing great without him.”

“Babe,” Maria grabs your hand and squeezes it, “I say this with all the love in my heart… you’re not doing great.”

“I knoooow!” you sigh, closing your eyes. “I just thought… I’d show up in my pretty dress with a hot man on my arm and show Simon I’m happy and fulfilled without his love.”

“But you don’t ha–”

“Please, I know. I just– I’m happy for him in some really odd way but I also want to be… happy for myself.”

“Okay,” she nods before taking a deep breath, “here’s what I’m going to do for you. You know Joel?”

“Your… brother-in-law?”

“Yes, he owes me a favor, soooo, he’s going to be your date,” she sits back folding her arms across her chest with a smug smirk. “He’s handsome as hell and a good man but he’s very quiet and intimidating to those who don’t know him. He’s perfect for this situation.” 

You do know Joel… just not very well at all. There have been random run-ins at Miller family parties, but nothing more than a quick “hello” and “how are you?” exchanged between the two of you. He seems the opposite of your Dartmouth educated, polo playing yuppie of an ex. “Yoo hoo,” Maria waves her hand in front of your face catching your attention. “Does that work for you?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I think… it does,” a relieved smile lifts your face.  

Maria has, once again, fixed your problem. 

—-

RING… RING… RING… 

Your fingers nervously tap against the countertop. “Come on, pick uuup, pick uuuup, pick uuu–”

“Miller,” a deep voice answers.

“H-Hi, uh, Joel?” You feel a third your age, like you’re right back in middle school calling the cute boy in your science class because your friend dared you. 

“Speaking.”

“Hey, uh, you’re my wedding date? Maria… she gave me your number so we can plan?”

“Oh, yes,” his voice softens. “Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, uh… I think it might be good to go over a story for us before the big day.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “I’m all ears.”

—-

Your eyes roam down your notes from the call. “So, we formally met at Kevin’s graduation party. I call you ‘honey’, our first date was to a movie and then to pizza. We’ve been together for a little over a year. You hate sushi and love tamales. You don’t like water slides. You play the guitar. You have a daughter named Sarah who’s a senior in high school. You own a construction company with Tommy… I think that’s about right?”

"Believe so," the bass of his quiet voice causes goosebumps to pebble your skin. If he's doing this to you over the phone, what will the wedding be like?

"Okay," you settle against your sofa, "and for me?" 

Papers shuffle before Joel clears his throat. “Hm, okay. I asked Tommy for your number after Kevin’s graduation party. You work at an insurance company, but you dream of owning your own bookstore one day. You love mashed potatoes. I call you 'baby.' Your favorite color is bronze. You’re a night owl forced to be an early bird. You love Taylor Swift unapologetically. You like staying over at my home because your favorite coffee place delivers to my house.”

“Perfect. I know this is totally weird and all, but, thanks for doing this. Sometimes I allow my pride to sabotage me... and Maria has to come in and save me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Thanks again Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice feels you with warmth. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.” 

“Yes, Saturday. Until then, have a good week.”

“You too.”

After saying goodbye, you hang up with a plume of butterflies in your stomach. 

—

“Okay! Get ready!” you shout from behind your bathroom door. 

Your Sunday brunch date with Maria has been moved up to a Saturday afternoon primping and preening spree in your home as she helps you get ready to watch the once love of your life marry someone else. 

You step out of the bathroom to find Maria sitting cross-legged on your bed. As soon as she sees you, she leans forward with wide eyes.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "I mean, seriously, wow."

"Really?" you ask, giving a twirl in your mauve dress, adorned with a delicate print of sequined flowers blooming across the bodice.

“Really,” her eyebrow angles as she nods, “I can’t wait for Miller to have to deal with keeping his cool around you.”

“What?”

Maria just smiles, “Let’s just say, you look hot, that’s all I’m going to say.” 

___

A shiny black truck pulls into your driveway. Panic jolts through you as you watch the door swing open from your front window. Out steps Joel Miller, impeccably dressed in a black suit. Oh good lord–he’s your date. Like, date date, as in the guy you’re going to be spending the rest of the night with. The anxiety over Simon and Sabrina’s wedding fades into the background, replaced by the overwhelming challenge of maintaining your composure in the presence of someone who looks that stunning in a tuxedo.

The doorbell rings. 

Okay, okay, you got this.

A gust of pleasant autumn air hits your skin when you open the door. Oh good LORD, he looks incredible. His hair is longer than you remember, falling in gentle waves you dream of running your fingers through. His beard is neatly trimmed, though slightly patchy with a strong mustache that frames his plush lips. He has a shy smile, his dimple makes a divot you want to press your finger into. His simple black suit stretches around his obviously toned and broad shoulders. 

“Hi, it’s uh, nice to see you again. Come on in,” you say, opening the door wider and stepping aside. 

“Course,” he replies, striding in past you. His hand twitches nervously when he turns and takes how you look fully in. “You look– y’look beautiful.” 

A flush of warmth spreads through you at the compliment from the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, now standing in the middle of your living room. 

“Oh, thanks, uh, it’s not every day your ex boyfriend of twenty years gets married to the woman he left you for… so I guess I needed to show off.”

“It’s–yeah–good,” he stammers, his eyes darting around the room, clearly avoiding your gaze.

“Well, uh, I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my bag, then we can get going. Make yourself at home.” 

“Sure thing.” 

As you head down the hall to get your things, you hear him let out a long sigh. 

Don’t worry dude, I get it. It’s going to be a long night. 

“So, um, I know, this is awkward,” you say, returning to the living room and dropping your shoes on the floor, “but I’m really grateful to you.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your couch. “S’alright. I can’t say no to a free meal and open bar.” 

“If I still know Simon’s taste, it’ll be a top-notch open bar too,” you muse, slipping into your high heel and bending over to fasten the buckle. 

You glance up when you hear Joel’s breath catch. He’s staring intently at you–more specifically, at your exposed leg and thigh, courtesy of the high slit in your dress. 

You really had to pick the dress that Maria dubbed “the revenge dress,” didn’t you? He clears his throat and quickly averts his gaze, but the charged atmosphere lingers. You try to ignore it, buckle your other shoe and grab your clutch.

“Ready?” you ask. 

“I am," he replies, standing up and adjusting his neck tie, a hint of color warms his cheeks. . 

—-

Joel’s truck looks quite out of place pulling into the Hurts Family’s grand estate. Of course Simon’s getting married at Father & Mother’s sprawling manor. You can’t help but wonder if the altar and ceremony will be located in the same conservatory you and Simon lost your virginity to each other in. 

The whole drive over, you and Joel practiced your spiels, all the while you tried to ignore the waves of attraction that vibrated between you and him in the small cab of his truck.

He pulls up to the valet and reluctantly hands his keys over to the college aged kid before hurrying over to your door, cutting in front of the doorman to help you down. What a gentleman.

Soft violin music floats through the air and white flower petals line the walkway leading into the massive estate that once felt like your second home. A nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind that you’re about to live what should’ve been your wedding day. 

You breathe out deeply, Joel grabs your hand as he guides you into the house. 

People mingle, some you don’t know, many you do. Aunt Billie, Uncle Martin, the cousins from Manchester, Simon’s favorite professor. Familiar faces surround you, what the hell were you thinking this would be okay?

You’ve known this home since you were twelve, Simon showed up in your seventh grade algebra class, a new student with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, you thought he was the prettiest boy you had ever seen, even before he spoke… the British accent would’ve been enough to sweep you off your feet. It took a couple years of friendship before you both admitted your crushes on each other, the confessions happened in the movie room, just down the hallway you stand near.

Love is fleeting, love is hopeless. You’ve learned to care for yourself like Simon once cared for you, but now in this home you used to sneak into, you feel just as alone as you did the day you moved out of the house you shared with him for a decade just two streets down from here. 

“Hey, you okay?” Joel leans in and whispers. “Squeezin’ my hand mighty hard.”

“Oh,” you blink, refocusing on him, “I am, it’s just… really bizarre and everything. Seeing so many familiar people I haven't seen in years feels strange.”

“You’re doing good, I got you,” he says, letting go of your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding you farther into the mansion. 

___

The impressive altar stands in the conservatory–you know your ex well– this windowed dwelling means everything to him. Everywhere you look, peach and champagne flowers are nestled among lush green foliage. You and Joel settle eight rows back on the groom's side, just a few feet from the bench you lost your virginity on. Jamie, Simon’s friend from college, sends you a kind smile when you sit next to him. 

Your foot taps nervously against the stone tile, keeping rhythm with the soft string music lilting through the air. You take a deep breath to center yourself as the processional begins. The family minister you’ve known since you were fifteen leads the way then–Simon. Still just as handsome, in that specific pretty way that drew you to him as a teenager. The slight waves of his dark blonde hair are more controlled and slicked back. His slender body is topped by wide shoulders from all his years of playing polo. His equally handsome brother Liam follows, along with a handful of friends you used to consider your own. 

Joel’s arm wraps around you as Simon takes his place at the altar, his fingers resting firmly on your bare shoulder just in time for the bridal procession to begin. Everybody takes their rightful places waiting for the bride. Simon stands at the altar, laser focused on the doorway, oddly, you feel a sense of happiness for him. Maybe you feel less lonely with the comfort of Joel’s strong arm around you, maybe you’re just caught up in the emotions of the day. 

As you expected, Lia and Ewan, Simon’s niece and nephew, are the ring bearer and flower girl. You were at the hospital when both of them were born. You taught both of them how to swim. They used to call you their aunt. 

The small orchestra begins playing “The Wedding March,” the audience stands in anticipation of Sabrina’s entrance. The curtains part and she appears shimmering down the aisle in her ivory dress. Okay, you have to admit, she looks gorgeous. Joel pulls you closer, his hand rests against your hip as Sabrina and her father pass your row. You’re grateful for his presence, even if it’s just a comforting distraction that just happens to be pretend.

The look on Simon’s face is unmistakable when he takes Sabrina’s hand–it’s the same look he would give you whenever he told you loved you all those thousands upon thousands of times. 

You take your seat, Joel’s hand finds your shoulder once more. It’s going to be damn hard to concentrate on the ceremony.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.

—

You survive the ceremony… thanks to Joel and his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder. As Simon and Sabrina lead the recessional out of the conservatory, Simon spots you and sends you a knowing wink and smile when he spots Joel next to you. Maybe it’s a good thing you attended, it’s the final picket placed in the closure fence. 

“You good?” Joel whispers in your ear while watching the rest of the party leave. You turn to respond, failing to realize his face is now right next to yours. His lips now sit a breath away from yours. Panic slips in, overwhelmed by the thought of anyone catching an awkward moment like this, especially since you’re the ex girlfriend the groom left for his brand new bride. 

Fuck it. You lean forward and place your lips against his, leaving a delicate peck against them. At least now you’ll have this moment that’s just for you. 

—

The warm autumn sun is beginning to set casting the preened and pristine gardens of the Hurts Estate in amber tones. Thank god for the cocktail hour and open bar. 

You sip your champagne and smile at a few familiar faces while gazing out upon the vast lawns you used to spend lazy days sunbathing and playing croquet on. What a bizarre homecoming of sorts. Joel is taking his role seriously, constantly checking on you and never leaving your side.

A familiar voice calls your name, pulling you from your reverie.

“Oh sweetheart! It’s so lovely to see you!” Simon’s mother, Adeline, greets you with kisses on both cheeks before pulling you into a warm hug. You’ve always liked the woman and she always adored you. She turns to your date, her eyes lighting up when she looks Joel up and down. 

“Addy, this is my boyfriend Joel.” A rush of excitement is sent through you at the simple introduction. “Joel, this is Simon’s mom, Adeline.”

“Good evening ma’am,” Joel says, extending his hand to shake hers gently. “It’s quite beautiful here.”

“Oh, thank you! Aside from our two boys, this is our pride and joy. There’s nothing better than seeing your child get married in the place you call home.” . 

“Well, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about this place, you have a lot of good memories here, right baby?” Joel looks at you with an affectionate smile. Oh he’s good.

“I do,” you smile warmly at Addy. 

“Oh sweetheart! That makes me so happy! You’re always welcome here, I’m so happy Simon invited you!”

“I am too, it’s so nice to see you,” you say, realizing how much you truly miss her. You spent twenty years of your life around so many of these people before being cut off cold turkey from them.  

“Shoot! I better keep moving and making my rounds! Do enjoy the bar, and make sure tell them Addy sent you; they’ll give you the real good stuff. Joel, are you a whiskey man?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies with a nod.

“We’ve got some Old Rip Van Winkle, aged 25 years. Just tell them Adeline insists and they’ll pour you a glass.” 

“Thank you ma’am,” Joel says gratefully.

“Oh, I like him darling!” Addy winks before turning to leave, her gold dress gleaming just as bright as her personality. 

—

The large tent erected for the ceremony glows in pink and orange hues. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling overflowing with roses and garlands. It’s gorgeous and opulent everywhere you look. 

You’ve been nervous about your table assignment since you sent in your RSVP. Who will you be stuck with? You prayed it would be strangers versus people you used to call friends. You thank your lucky stars when you’re led to table eleven, where you’re greeted warmly by strangers. You tell your new tablemates you’re an old friend of Simon’s, Joel grabs your hand and gently holds it while you introduce yourselves,  shocked you still haven’t had to utilize the stories you and him invented. 

Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hurts! 

The two lovebirds make their grand entrance, glowing and grinning in their newlywed aura before the symphonic melody of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” begins to play. Hilarious, the last time you heard this song it was on a playlist Sabrina had made for Simon… a couple weeks before your ultimate separation. You got into a fight over the amount of times he’d play it, he told you were overreacting and being dramatic, you should’ve trusted your instincts right then and there.

They look so happy and gorgeous together, dancing their first dance surrounded by all of their loved ones inside this picturesque setting. It should’ve been you…

Joel leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you, stealing your attention from your spiraling thoughts. “I can’t play this song on violin or cello, but I can play it on guitar, maybe I can play it for you sometime.” 

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, “I–I’d like that.” 

“Thought you would,” he smirks, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

He’s been touching you all night, always considerate and tender, as if he holds an actual amount of reverence in his heart for you. God, he’s either the sweetest man to ever live, or he should give up the construction job, move to Hollywood and start acting. 

—

Simon and Sabrina make their rounds after dinner, they’re a table away laughing and galavanting with friends you used to call your own. It’s been over a year since you last spoke to him and now as the ultimate final thing you’ve been dreading is near, you’re nervous as hell. Joel casually drapes his arm around the back of your chair before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of your head, helping subside some of your anxieties. 

“You good?” he checks in with a soft whisper. 

You nod, scooting closer into the shell he’s created for you with his large body. 

Simon catches your eye with a warm, gentle smile as he leads Sabrina over to your table. You can’t be too mad at him, he’s been nothing but a gentleman since he forced the end of your already faltering relationship. Sabrina, well–she was just a better match for him. You wish them well, no matter how much it still seemingly hurts. You just want Simon to miss you a little bit.

The newlyweds greet the rest of the table, collecting well-wishes and flattery from the guests before turning their attention to you and Joel. 

Simon bends forward and gives you a tight hug before thanking you and saying how lovely it is to see you. Sabrina says hello, you tell her she looks beautiful, she returns the favor. 

Simon extends his hand to Joel and introduces himself. “I’m Simon, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about me–hopefully some good,” he says, his ever present British charm helps cut through the tension radiating off of Joel’s gruff reservedness. 

“She has,” Joel replies, shaking Simon’s hand. “I’m Joel. Nice to meet you both. Congrats. S’been a lovely wedding.”

The four of you make casual conversation. Joel mentions he’s a contractor, Simon’s eyes light up before he mentions how he wants to build a pool house. Your heart twinges a bit when you remember it’s all for pretend and there’s no way Joel could take the job. Joel makes a joke about how dinner was better than a No. 5 from Whataburger, eliciting a ruckus laugh from the newlyweds. You feel good, until the sinking feeling inside rears its ugly head and reminds you this is all a sham. 

Sabrina nods to Simon in an unspoken understanding that they need to move on with their greetings. Joel wishes them well and thanks them for the lovely party. You smile and do the same. 

“It’s good to see you happy,” Simon says as he gives you a parting hug. 

If only he knew…

You’re quiet as you watch Simon and Sabrina walk away, Simon’s hand is placed on Sabrina’s back lightly stroking up and down. Joel softly says your name, breaking your concentration on the happy married couple. 

“I like this song, let’s dance,” he says, rising and extending his hand to you. 

“Wonderwall?” you ask, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Let me guess, you can play it on guitar.” 

“I do,” he confirms with a smile, pulling you close against his body. His large hand splays against your lower back, and yours finds its place on his firm shoulder. The wedding band has slowed the song down, couples gently sway around you. The twinkling lights above reflect in Joel’s dark brown eyes. You can’t stop looking at him, he can’t stop looking at you. The moment is intimate, to any other wedding guest, you look like a couple just as in love as the newlyweds. 

You rest your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne–woodsy, smoky, with a hint of cinnamon. His thumb strokes against the skin of your hand as your bodies synchronistically move together. This doesn't feel like pretending at all.

The song ends, Joel makes no move to pull away, and you don’t either. The first notes of the next song begin and you recognize the drumbeat anywhere. You can’t believe you’re hearing it here, of all places.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up till January…”

“Ohh,” you let out a soft sigh against Joel’s chest, feeling your heart drop. “This was going to be our first dance song, I-I told him it as soon as I first heard it all those years ago.”

Joel tilts his head down, his concerned brown eyes peer into yours. “M’sorry, did you want to stop?”

“No, no, it’s–I can’t leave the floor during this. What if he sees me?”

Joel nods reassuringly before tightening his hold on you and pulling your joined hands in closer. His head rests on top of yours engulfing you with his broad body, like your own personal fake wedding date security blanket. 

Your heartbreak slowly dissipates, mended by the gentle touch and attention of Joel. The song ends, he asks if you want to get a breath of fresh air, you gratefully nod before taking his hand and telling him you know a place.

—

The breeze rolling off the lake sends a chill across your skin, Joel takes notice, quickly removing his jacket and places it over your shoulders without hesitation.

“Thanks,” you say, sinking into the leftover warmth of Joel.

“No problem,” he says, shuffling his neck tie open and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. “I’m burnin’ up under it.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the tranquil waves lap at the shore. “Sorry about earlier. It was just… a shock to hear that song. He moved on so quickly and I feel like I’ve just been left wondering how I can so easily be… replaced.” 

“No need to apologize,” he sighs, “I’m not good at any of this stuff, but, you don’t seem like someone that’s so… easy to get over.” 

Your heart skips a beat when you look over at him. The soft ambient glow of the full moon reflecting off the water bathes him in an almost ethereal glow, making him look like a knight in shining armor who walked through a portal to help save you from your own wounded heart you’ve been trying to heal for the past two years. 

“Guess you just don’t know me very well then,” you joke, trying to slow down the thoughts racing within your heart and mind. 

“No, but I think I’d like to,” he says, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes. 

“I-I’d like that too.” 

Joel hesitates for a moment before asking, “There’s a new Curtis & Viper movie releasing next week. Did you want to go with me?”

“Like a real date?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Suppose it would be. We could recreate our ‘first’ date that we told that one aunt of Simon’s all about. We’ll get pizza at the place across the street.”

“I’d love that,” you say, your excitement clear in your voice. 

From across the yard, you can just make out the sound of the band playing for the wedding guests. 

Joel takes a deep breath and turns to you with a warm, playful smile. “I feel better asking you here so you know I’m being for real. I really want to dance with you. May I have this dance?” 

“I’d love nothing more,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face as he pulls you closer.

You remind yourself to send Maria a bouquet of flowers for setting up your fake wedding date as you settle into his embrace.

[majestyeverlasting]

Hellooo, can I please request a Joel miller x reader oneshot where the reader had a really bad day at work and she’s calling him from the bathroom crying and he immediately rushes to pick her up? 🥰🩷

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary A disheartening setback at work leads you to call Joel, who always knows exactly what you need [fluff, 1.6k].

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! Really enjoyed writing this one.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Hi, are you busy right now?

A heavy exhale is freed from your chest the moment you hit send. It’s quiet in the bathroom except for the rhythmic drip of the leaky sink faucet. Muffled voices arise from the hallway as people pass by, some preparing to commute home. Warm tears stream down your cheeks. 

No sooner does your phone vibrate to life, a picture of you and Joel at McKinney Falls filling the screen. There isn’t much time to compose yourself before you press the accept button with a shaky thumb. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Got done early today, we’re cleaning up the site,” Joel greets, wind in the background. Tommy’s voice emits from nearby as well, followed by rowdy, cackling laughter. “Hold on a second, lemme get someplace quiet.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

There’s shuffling on his end of the line that eventually subsides. It’s still worth clinging to even though he’s miles away. 

“Sorry about that. Everything alright?” Concern dances around the edges of his words. You can tell he’s trying to keep them from being consumed. 

After Sarah moved out for college, he’d gotten better at accepting that every phone call he received from her didn’t automatically mean trouble. Most of the time, she simply wanted to catch up now that she lived two hours away. 

However, the opposite was true between you and Joel. Nowadays, you spend so much time together that there’s seldom a need to talk on the phone. The fact that you were calling him, from work, no less, meant something was up. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t do much for the wavering of your voice when you finally speak up again, “Just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your subsequent sniffle makes him grow still. You can see it through the phone. It’s in the way he doesn’t immediately respond, gears undoubtedly turning in his head. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” There’s a gentle, almost melodic quality to his voice that makes you wish you could lay your head on his chest and feel the rumble of his words. 

“Today’s just been a lot,” you tell him. “You know Alexander, the Bulletin’s editor?” He makes a small sound of affirmation. “It wasn’t his decision, but he pulled me aside to let me know my feature has been put on hold for further revision.” 

Relaying the news makes fresh tears well in your eyes. Over the past few weeks, Joel has watched you pour yourself into each stage of constructing the story to do the subjects justice—the meticulous research, heartfelt interviews, and late nights perfecting every draft. 

It was a labor of love, a piece that sought to illuminate the struggles of longtime Austin residents, artists, and small business owners navigating the challenges of gentrification and displacement. 

“Something about it being redundant.” Which, for all you knew, could be higher-up code for we don’t want this stepping on the toes of donors with deep pockets.  

“You’re kidding,” Joel grouses, disappointed for you. 

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “I wish I was,” you breathe. “Redundant, yet they’ve got room for age-old dieting tips and holiday gift guides every year,” you say, voice wavering. 

“I know, I hear you. I’m so sorry, baby,” he soothes, releasing a heavy sigh. “At least it hasn’t been canned entirely. That’s worth something.”  

He’s right, but it still feels like a slap in the face considering all the time invested. From you and everyone who shared their story. 

“It just sucks,” you sniffle. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now I feel even worse.” A dull ache has settled in your temples. 

Shuffling arises on Joel’s end of the line again, and you remember that he’s still on site. 

“I’m sorry. You can go if you need to.” 

Instead, he comes back with, “Hang tight, okay? Gonna come get you.” 

When you bite your lip instead of responding, he keeps talking, “Should be there in twenty, give or take.” 

As appealing as it sounds to be whisked away, reality is quick to set in. 

“No, it’s fine, Joel. Tommy and the guys need you. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t good for it,” he replies. 

•••

Outside, you’re met with a relaxed breeze and the dwindling warmth of downtown, where the sun eases towards the horizon. A few tourists mill around, men and women in business casual stride by with messenger bags. At Joel’s truck, which is parallel parked across the street, he gets the door for you. An 80s station plays low on the radio, Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run faintly recognizable. 

You watch as he rounds to the driver’s side in that relaxed stride you love. He looks handsome despite his mused hair and the specks of dried paint on his shirt. When he climbs in, you’ve taken notice of the ice-cold raspberry tea in the cupholder closest to you. 

Along the way, he’d stopped and gotten it from the cafe you and Sarah frequented whenever she was visiting from school. You only went alone as an occasional treat, but he knew how much you liked it. 

A smile buds on his face when you pick it up and take a grateful sip. There’s a softness to his gaze that makes warmth bloom in your chest. With him, even the little things seemed to say, I see you. 

When you extend the cup his way in a silent offer, he waves you off. However, curiosity gets the better of him after he pulls off the curb. “Guess a sip won’t hurt.”

For the first time in what feels like hours, you smile when Joel hums at the flavor. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like the world is ending anymore. When he places his hand on your thigh, you intertwine your fingers with his, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

A comfortable silence settles between you. It isn’t until you’ve left downtown that Joel speaks up again, voice measured and sure, “Your story will get out. Those guys know good journalism when they see it, and they’re gonna have to run it.” 

You glance over at him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as hope kindles in your chest.

“Hell, I’ll make my own publication if that’s what it takes. The Miller Times.” 

A chuckle bubbles out of you, but you could cry at the same time. For an entirely different reason this time. 

“I could get in trouble for going to a different publisher,” you remind him, running your thumb over the back of his hand as a small smile plays on your lips. “I’m on staff.”  

“I know, honey.” Joel squeezes your hand, a playful glint in his eyes. “Admit it, though. You thought about it for a second. The Miller Times has a nice ring to it.” 

He can see you fighting against your growing smile. “It’s alright.” 

“I’ll take that,” he concedes. Then, a greater air of sincerity settles over him. “What’s that one saying—setbacks are setups for something better.” 

You nod, gazing out the window as you turn into his neighborhood. 

“Don’t let this weigh you down.” 

You felt worlds lighter with him. 

•••

The warm spray of the shower feels so good against your skin that you remain under it even after the day’s troubles have washed away. Three months ago, you would’ve had to use Joel’s body wash, but your products and belongings had since made their way here. Some, he bought because he knew you’d be around, and others—namely, clothes—that migrated from your apartment. 

The word home has lost its shape in that regard. Not in a detached way of not belonging in any one place, but in that Joel’s house had begun to feel like just as much of a home as your cozy one-bedroom a few miles away. 

When you finally step out of the shower, a towel wrapped around yourself, you can see straight into the bedroom, where Joel is stretched across the bed. The sound of the shower door closing prompts him to sit up with a low grunt. You offer a shy smile upon meeting his gaze. 

“Promise I’m not creepin’ around,” he says, standing to his feet. “Just wanted to see if your headache was gone. Can bring up some Tylenol if you need it.” 

“It’s fine. I feel better now,” you assure. With a satisfied nod, he turns to leave with the intent of giving you space, but stops in his tracks when you speak up again, “You’re allowed to creep around if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Joel saunters into the bathroom doorway, propping an arm against the frame. The motion causes his bicep to strain against the sleeve of his shirt. Getting to see you like this, the intimacy of it all, always makes him feel grateful and warm. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re the boss,” you lilt.

With a low chuckle, Joel pushes out of the doorway and moves to stand behind you. You stare at your joint reflection as he rests his large hands on your hips, then leans down to press a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder. His frame is broad and rugged behind you, but his eyes are kind. 

When you rest your hands over his, he presses a second kiss to the crook of your neck. Then another just beneath your ear. His lips are so soft and warm against your damp skin that you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine and makes you press back into him. 

“I like you like this,” he whispers. “Relaxed…smiling.”

Now that you’re in his arms, it’s hard to imagine having stayed at the newsroom. With the meetings, chatty colleagues, and constant blue light. It’s quieter here with Joel. The world at large has disappeared while your smaller one keeps turning.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” you admit. 

But Joel did. He always did. 

-

Thank you so much for reading. Like, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

MORE

[lavenderleahy]

Buck scans the reception venue, eyes finally landing on Tommy. He's is sitting at an otherwise empty table in the back of the venue, sipping on punch and staring off in the distance. As Buck jogs over to him, Tommy notices him and his eyes lift with the hint of a smile. Buck slides into the chair nearest to him, hunching over earnestly.

"Tommy, hey. I'm so sorry. I did not mean to ditch you for half the wedding."

"Hey it's all good," Tommy shrugs. "You've got your priorities. Maddie needed you. No one could've predicted the chaos of the day."

"Yes," Buck responds, placing a hand on Tommy's. "But I'm still sorry. I'd do anything for Maddie, but it still wasn't okay to desert you."

Tommy mirrors Buck's movements and places his other hand on top of his. Smiles gently. "Evan. I can hold my own at a wedding. I promise."

Buck glances down, then looks up at Tommy, smiling shyly. "It's just... it's only our second date and I've fucked up both of them."

Tommy laughs. A real, pleasant laugh. It makes butterflies dance in Buck's stomach.

"You've done nothing of the sort, Evan," Tommy responds. "Sure, everything with you is.... unexpected. But I like it."

Now the butterflies are doing somersaults. "Yeah?"

Tommy smiles and squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Yeah."

Buck beams. God, he's so nervous. Tommy makes him nervous. He still can't believe Tommy has given him another chance after their train wreck of a first date. He'd been thinking about the wedding for days beforehand, just wanting everything to go perfectly. Needless to say, it had not gone perfectly. Not even close.

But here Tommy still was, smiling at him, holding his hand, forgiving him anyways. He hadn't left in the chaos. He-

"You're staring." Tommy's voice interrupts his train of thought. He raises his eyebrows. "Like what you see?"

Fuck, Tommy's so confident. Of course he's confident. He's cool, and he's loyal, and he's willing to take risks, and he has a cleft, and - Buck can't stop himself. He reaches his hand up and gently grasps Tommy by the chin, his thumb on that dimple and his four fingers brushing against the stubble near his neck.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he says, breathless.

Tommy doesn't say anything, just nods solemnly.

Buck leans in and closes the gap, brushing his lips against Tommy's. Immediately, there's electricity buzzing between them and he deepens the kiss. Their noses and foreheads are pressed against each other, their lips dancing in unison, and there's nothing, nothing that Buck would rather be doing right now. His right hand snakes around Tommy's neck and he pulls him in closer, impossibly closer. The kiss is perfect. Tommy is perfect. He never wants this kiss to end.

But Tommy pulls back, ending the kiss far, far too early. His face his flushed and Buck is proud to notice that he might be a little breathless, too. He stands up, and Buck's eyes follow him, wide and wondering.

"C'mon," Tommy says, offering a hand to Buck where he remains in the chair.

Buck puts his hand in Tommy's but he can't move. His mind is still reeling from the kiss. He wants to kiss Tommy again.

"You said you needed someone to dance with, right?"

This shakes Buck out of his stupor, and he laughs. "Yeah, I did," he says, rising to his feet. He lets his eyes meet Tommy's and steps forward into his space. "Let's dance."

[eufezco]

"ask her out." sarah said leaning into the kitchen counter. looking at her dad with funny eyes. joel was busy chopping the veggies for dinner so he didn't really listen what sarah said nor he noticed the devilish smirk on her face.

"what?"

"y/n. ask h-"

"sarah." joel tried to stop her from continuing to talk. he knew where this was going.

"come on! ask her out! it's so obvious that she's dying for you to do it."

"sarah, stop this-"

"she likes you!"

"sarah, i can't ask her out! she's half my age, she could be your sister!"

sarah rolled her eyes. "she's an adult. she can make her own decisions."

"and she's your babysitter." joel added, making sarah huff. she hated that word because she was not a baby anymore. you made lunch for her, you drove her to school and to her soccer practice, you helped her with her homework, you hugged her when you two watched a movie, and you made sure that she was well tucked in before you left.

"are you sure she's like a sister? because it's giving me mother fig-"

"she's really helpful, you know?" joel immediately interrupted sarah before she could finish. actually not wanting her to finish. that would mean finally saying out loud what sarah, tommy and he thought. "the only one we've found that doesn't wanna strangle you after the first week."

"hey! that's not true! it's just- it didn't work with the other girls, okay?"

joel stopped chopping the veggies to look at his daughter with his eyebrows raised. she had been very picky about choosing a babysitter. he had been looking for someone to take care of sarah while he was out for a really long time when he found you. some of them he rejected because joel didn't think they would be good for sarah, others because he didn't trust them enough to stay almost twenty-four hours with his daughter. some rejected him when they discovered that he had a daughter, other ones because of the wages that his salary allowed him to pay. and those that were okay with those previous things sarah didn't like them.

joel thought about it and sarah smiled.

"no. it's not happening." he determined, shaking his head and making sarah huff. "she's like the best thing that happened to us! we can't risk losing her over a date. i mean, where are we going to find someone like her?"

sarah nodded. "exactly."

joel shook his head again.

"if you have not asked her out by the end of the week, i'll do it for you!" she added before leaving to her room.

"sarah! you can't do that!"

and sarah always keeps her word. by the end of the week joel tried to ask you to dinner several times always failing to do so. what if you thought he was a creep? he would be very embarrassed. so, on friday night she told you go get pizza at the perfect time for you to coincide with joel at the front door.

"oh, hi joel." you said when you saw him getting out of his car. "you are on time for dinner."

"it seems like it, yeah." he walked to where you were, pulling the keys out of his pocket and ready to open the door for you. most of the nights when he arrived you had already had dinner and sarah was in bed. joel told you every time that you didn't have to do it, but you couldn't help but prepare him something to eat. "how was it? she's been good?"

you giggled. "yeah, she's the best."

when joel finally opened the door the lights of the house were off, only the kitchen table remained lit thanks to the candles. joel closed the door behind you with his eyes closed and one of his hands massaging his temples. you went to put the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter while you looked at sarah proudly standing next to the table.

"what is all this?" you asked smiling. joel swallowed nervously.

"a date." bill answered, appearing behind sarah and placing his hands on both of the girl's shoulders. joel wanted to beat his brother's ass.

"a date?"

sarah nodded. her eyes moved to an embarassed joel, still standing on the door frame and then to you again. you noticed that the table was only set for two people. "oh. sarah-" your heart flipped inside your chest. this week she had asked you many questions, especially about your love life. if you were seeing someone, if you were interested in someone, if you had any plans on friday night...

"look, y/n, i'm sorry about all of this. you can lea-"

"no, it's fine. i mean, it could be nice. don't you think so?"you interrupted him. he raised his eyebrows, slowly nodded and he put his hands inside of his pockets, trying to hide how nervous he truly was.

"i mean, yeah. why not?"

sarah did a little excited jumping before going to hug you and prepare your dinner, which basically consisted of bringing the pizza you had brought to the table. tommy said to both of you that he was going to take sarah out to dinner and that you would have as much time as you wanted. when they both left you found joel and you alone in a really dark house. "should we turn on the lights or...?"

"yes, that would be great. i can't see shit." he added making you laugh.

during the dinner you asked about how his day went and joel was so interested in everything that you told him about you. and when you realized, both of his hands were holding your face up, his thumbs were caressing your cheeks and your body was trapped between joel's and the kitchen counter. his hot lips were moving so perfectly with yours and you thought you could melt under his touch. your hands made their way under his t-shirt, helping him to pull it over his head.

"wait, wait. are you okay with this?"

after saying yes to him, the next thing you knew one of his hands was around your neck, his mouth really close to your ear muttering through gritted teeth the dirtiest things and he was thrusting from behind trying to get more of those angelic sounds you were making.

[dadvans]

heavy loads

2.6k of self-indulgent lactation!kink bucktommy for @rcmclachlan based on baby probie-verse, where bucktommy have a whoops baby

It wasn’t a shock to find Evan, up from his nap, in the laundry room when Tommy got home from running errands. Tommy went to go peek in on Nora—still Probie to the 118 and Miss Nora to Evan’s parents and sister, a toss up between those and Mashed Potato or Babygirl between Evan and Tommy, or Miss Piggy when she was feeding and Evan thought he was out of earshot—who was conked out in her crib. He silently snuck back from her crib to return to Evan in the laundry room and ask if he needed any help.

Four weeks and some change since bringing Nora into the world, and it was laundry out of everything that had become the main Sisyphean task to own their lives. They’d given up on cloth diapers almost immediately, but between spit-ups and changes and their basic day-to-day, it felt like there was constant, never-ceasing mountain of laundry. And Evan kept leaking.

He’d always had well-defined pecs before getting pregnant, but now he had full on tits. Just perfect handfuls, in Tommy’s opinion, but after the first few weeks the only time he wasn’t complaining about them was when he was feeding Nora.

When he was feeding Nora, all frustration or anxiety melted away into dopey bliss. Evan loved that his body was producing something good for someone else, sustaining life. “S’what I was made for,” he would say, blinking sleepily down at Nora who made sweet, little noises as she tried to suck him dry. It was a welcome difference from the weeks leading up to her arrival, when he’d been so nervous, voice shaky as he worried out loud about faulty parts, that his body wouldn’t make enough or that she wouldn’t latch, right up until she did there in the hospital on the first try.

“Babygirl’s still snoozing,” Tommy said, stuffing a hand in Evan’s back pocket while Evan leaned down to catch some stray wet socks for the dryer. “You need any help?”

Evan made a familiar disgruntled noise at the back of his throat, which meant he didn’t want to ask, but yes. So, Tommy squeezed his ass twice through the denim in a way that meant move. Evan rolled up, tossed the socks in and slammed the dryer door a little too quickly before scooting to the side. His emotions had always run high, Tommy knew, and the hormones during pregnancy and now made him even quicker to anger. In all honesty, Tommy still had to check himself when feeling annoyed about it, but it helped now when Evan twisted to let Tommy’s hand slide out of his pocket and catch on his hip. So,

“Hey,” Tommy said instead. “Hey.”

“We need to do, uh, sheets. Again,” Evan clarified, jaw tight, waving at the still-full hamper and half-emptied washing machine. He smiled like it hurt. “Passed out for a half hour and I totally soaked through them again. And I know I could leave it, let it dry, I’m putting a towel down anyway, but we already had a full load—“

“Evan.” Tommy didn’t shut him up with a kiss, but with a gentle squeeze. He’d found out that Evan’s tendency to pass out face down and sprawled out on any surface had not been fixed, but had simply laid dormant while he was pregnant, and he was up to his old habits again, which now had consequences. “I’ll take over in here. I grabbed you some more of those prebiotic sodas you’re obsessed with, if you want one.”

Evan softened.  “Ginger lime?”

“Yeah, baby, ginger lime.” Tommy gave him another squeeze. “So, get out of here and try not to give yourself heartburn while I finish loading the rest, okay?”

He finished loading the wash, and—poor baby, he thought—the sheets really were soaked through already. Both machines going, he closed the door behind him as he left and for one blissful second got to enjoy the sight of Evan settling down on the living room couch with his soda before Nora’s crying from the next room cracked through the silence like thunder.

Evan sighed, and he instantly crossed his arms across his chest, tilting his head back for a second with his eyes closed. The soda can in his hand crinkled in his grip before his wrist went limp.

Before Tommy could offer, Evan said, “Trust me. I got this one.”

xx

Tommy started re-making their bed late evening. Evan came in after leading Nora’s nighttime ritual, slingshotting his nursing tank from the doorway into the hamper, before finding a clean one in the dresser. Instead of tight, elastic straps that he could work loose, it had thicker, ribbed tank straps and deep, henley collar that he probably knew Tommy liked seeing him in. He walked into the master bathroom half-blind trying to slip it on over his head.

“You know,” he called out only to come back a few seconds later, still straightening himself out at the hem and carrying a ragged towel that he flipped over his side of the bed, “you know I think it’s cool that my body knows how to make food for our kid.”

“It’s very cool,” Tommy agreed, no-nonsense. He threw one side of their duvet over to Evan so they could snap it over the bed and peel it back evenly on each side.

Evan flopped himself on top of his towel face up the second they were done, kicking his own feet down to get his calves under the covers. “Well, lately I’m starting to feel like it doesn’t know how to stop, and I’m going to be like this forever. A leaky mess.”

Tommy crawled into bed next to him and leaned over to press a kiss to the meat of his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your tits, baby. Anything I can do?”

His mouth grazed down the strap of Evan’s nursing tank and something deep in his gut began to uncoil as Evan’s breath hitched in response. Instinctively, he pressed another kiss lower, near the crease of his armpit, and Evan shuddered on the exhale.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned.

Tommy smiled against his warm skin, eyes beating closed. “Good thing we’re both firefighters, then.”

Evan laughed.

“Fuck, I’m serious!” He said, first fond and then softer, “Really. I’m serious, though. If you were. Curious, I mean. Go for it. There’s always a little something left in the tank.”

Tommy hummed. Eyes still closed, he could feel the way Evan shifted underneath him to wrap an arm around Tommy’s shoulder and get a palm at the nape of his neck, fingers tracing up through his hair. Ready to cradle him like that, hold him there, if he wanted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve already thought about it,” Evan continued. “I’ve thought about it, maybe a lot.”

“Jesus, Evan.” Tommy nipped at his shoulder again, just to tease, but found himself curling into Evan’s hold, reaching up to snap open the collar of his tank and slide his hand underneath to cup at Evan’s pec, which fit perfectly in his palm and sat soft and ready below his chin. His thumb stroked over the nipple, fatter and perkier than ever since Nora’d arrived, and Evan sank back against his body in return. “You gonna feed me?”

“Y-yeah.” Evan sounded shaky but so sure. His fingers in Tommy’s hair curled into a soft grip. “God, help me out, Tommy, please let me feed you.”

Tommy hummed. “Okay. C’mere, baby, I got you.”

It was so easy, taking Evan’s fat tit into his mouth, Evan’s grip in his hair growing tighter while the rest of him went practically boneless. Another shaky breath and then Evan made a noise, half-whimper, half moan, that went straight to Tommy’s dick.

“Need you to take it deeper. Open, open, oh—God, your mouth is so big. Stay there, like that, yeah,” Evan said, hushed, almost reverent, as Tommy adjusted his latch and started putting his tongue to work.

He licked up, chasing Evan’s nipple, trying to tease his milk out. Swallowed around him and threw an arm over Evan’s lap to keep him in place when he started to squirm, thrilled to feel the way Evan shifted as his heels started to dig into the mattress, getting hard, dick pressing up against Tommy’s forearm.

And there it was, suddenly, Evan’s milk streaming into his mouth. Creamy and sweet, like the leftover dregs of Saturday morning cereal when he was a kid, hitting his tongue in little hiccup spurts. He almost choked at the sensation and felt a little slip out the corner of his mouth, and Evan’s grip tightened at the base of his scalp again, holding him there.

Their sex life hadn’t suffered even in the past few weeks, not in the way Tommy thought back on many of his old guard colleagues at the 118 talking about—dead bedrooms, wives like cold fish ever since they popped out a kid for some reason. But between Evan’s body needing the time to heal and the recent arrival of a tiny drill sergeant who demanded to be fed, held, changed and bathed at regularly irregular frequencies, opportunities to be intimate with each other had been few and far between. Tommy wasn’t complaining, but the sheer wave of niceness he felt now—being this close and familiar with Evan felt just as good as the first hit of a dilaudid drip in the back of an ambulance, made his toes curl against their fresh sheets as he swallowed.

“Missed your mouth on me,” Evan sighed, clearly also feeling some kind of way. “Shit, that’s nice. Different, but good.”

His dick was more insistent against Tommy’s arm now, the head eagerly tenting the thin cotton of his boxers.

Tommy finally took pity on him and tugged Evan out through the slit in his boxers, lips slipping loose to murmur,  “Yes, hi, hello to you too.”

He licked his hand milk wet and returned his grip to stroke Evan and squeeze a little mean at the tip, the way that Evan loved, the way that made Evan pant and whine, before he resumed suckling. There was something meditative about Evan rocking into his hand and against his tongue, and Tommy found himself soothed by the give and take of his body, their natural rhythm together punctuated by Evan’s swallowed back noises.

“Okay?” Tommy asked, mouth full.

“Uh-huh.” Evan sighed, breath pitchy. “Starting to soak through my other side without my Haakaa.”

Tommy hummed, and licked a broad stripe up his nipple to his collarbone, biting there softly. “You want me to go get your Haakaa, baby?”

“Nah, I have a better idea,” Evan replied. He untangled himself from Tommy’s grip and carefully twisted to throw one long leg over Tommy’s thighs. “Hey, handsome.”

“Evan,” Tommy warned. They were supposed to be limiting the kind of sex they were having for at least two more weeks.

Evan worked the other side of his tank down his chest so both of his tits were exposed, rubbing at the neglected nipple. “I just want to continue what we started. Nothing else. C’mon. No funny business.”

“Maybe a little funny business,” Tommy murmured as he watched milk dribble out over Evan’s fingers. He leaned in to chase the wet line up Evan’s knuckles with his tongue and suck a hot-breathed open-mouthed kiss to Evan nipple before pulling away. Evan groaned and rocked forward, chasing him in response, which almost had Tommy laughing. “Hey, gimme a sec. I’m grabbing you some lube.”

“Me?”

Tommy, halfway stretched back reaching for the bedside table, gave an unimpressed glance down at where Evan’s hard dick still curved up through the slit in his boxers, plummy head drooling precome against the tent in Tommy’s own sleep pants. Then he went back to digging the lube out of the drawer, practiced hands making quick work with it until he was wrapping a slick palm around Evan’s dick.

“That’s right, said I was gonna take care of you.” He sidled back up against the headboard, and Evan shifted with him practiced and familiar, until Tommy’s hand was stroking him, snug and slippery between them. Licking another long, thick line up the small swell of Evan’s breast, Tommy said, “And you’ll take care of me.”

He pulled Evan back into his mouth, and something uncoiled in his gut as Evan’s milk hit the back of his tongue again. His eyes fluttered closed. Years together and Evan’s body was still finding new things to give, new ways to taste, sweet and warm like the rest of him, dripping down Tommy’s throat.

“Oh.” Evan’s voice was weak and pitchy, and he brought both hands back up to curl in Tommy’s hair and hold him there while Tommy continued to suck and let Evan fuck into his fist.

His stomach was soft against Tommy’s knuckles, recently tender enough that Tommy tried to get his free hand on Evan’s hip to control the roll of his hips, opting for a sluggish grind and tighter grip. In the past nine months and change Evan had ridden him, sure, actually ridden him, but more recently he’d had a belly full of their kid in the way, so it was always reverse cowboy, and not this level of skin on skin closeness right in his lap. Evan flush against him now was a reminder of their first several months together when they used a little more strength to push each other around and hold each other down and Tommy, mouth full, felt so hungry for it.

“Can’t wait to have you inside me again,” Evan said, like he could read Tommy’s mind.

Tommy moaned and swallowed in response, tongued at Evan’s nipple like he was begging for more. He could feel Evan’s dick throb hot, heavier now in response, the grinding rock of his hips going a little sloppy.

“Baby,” Evan said, right on cue, “I’m going to come.”

The hands in Tommy’s hair tugged back, Tommy’s mouth dragged away and up with a slick noise to be guided in for a kiss, milk slipping from the corners, passed between the two of them as Evan came, shuddering on top of him. Vaguely he felt Evan’s come seep through his tank and sleep pants, already damp with lube and sweat. He was defenseless against it as Evan kept kissing him through his orgasm, licking into him sloppy and greedy for what felt like an hour, big hands and long arms slowly sliding down to where Tommy was still achingly hard. His fingers curled into the elastic waistband to clumsily peel back what he could without moving to pull Tommy out into his own familiar grip.

“Evan,” Tommy said against his mouth, almost breathless with it.

“Let me.” Evan leaned back to spit on his own hand, equal parts too lazy and restless to grab the lube that was right there, but Tommy had been riding the edge practically from the start. He was so goddamn spoiled already.

Evan touched him like he knew, jerking him off hard and quick.

“Next time,” he continued, “next time we do this, you lay me down and I’ll let you jerk off all over my tits.”

Tommy came hard with an ugly noise, like it was ripped up his throat. His head kicked back and Evan laughed, smug, leaning in to kiss the noise down, their teeth clacking together instead. He body felt weightless, Evan’s weight on him the only thing keeping him from floating up to the ceiling.

“Jesus,” he said, eventually.

Evan hummed, settling back. He looked sleepy, and satisfied, and so pleased with himself. “Yeah? You good? Get your fill?”

“And then some,” Tommy replied, feeling half drunk. “You good?”

“Great,” Evan said, glancing between them. Both their clean shirts were soaked through in places. Tommy needed to grab a new pair of pants. “But I'll be even better if you take care of the laundry.”

[thetriumphantpanda]

you, her, me | joel & tommy miller

Summary | It was never going to be as easy as getting pregnant on the first try. Tommy is away, working on some project out of town, when your next ovulation test tells you it's time to go. You resign yourself to another month without what you want the most, until Tommy suggests distance needn't change your plans.

Warnings | Y'all. You know what this is. Alcohol consumption, Girlfriend sharing, breeding kink, fingering (F), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, Tommy yet again getting cucked (but softly), phone sex, praise kink, Joel just being a fucking stud and a dirty talking menace once again. No use of Y/N, no outbreak AU.

Word Count | 3.8k

Authors Note | Well. Part one blew up, and it was never going to take first time around was it? Thank you for all the love on this first time around. Hope you enjoy this one just as much. If you like this, please consider reblogging, commenting or popping into my ask box with some love!

Part One | Main Masterlist

It’s not like you hadn’t expected it, but that single line on the pregnancy test still annoyed you. You’d done everything right, waited until the perfect possible time to let Joel fuck you and it still hadn’t taken. Tommy had been incredibly understanding, squeezing your arm and resigning both of you to the fact you’d just have to try again. Not that it would be a terrible thing to have to try again. Joel had been…. Well, Joel had been incredible, and if it were going to feel like that every time you had to try then you surely wouldn’t complain, especially if you could have Tommy’s eyes on you the whole time. 

That’s why, when you take the ovulation test the next month, and that smiling face is looking up at you, your stomach drops, because Tommy isn’t here. He’s gone for the whole week, working on some project out of town so Joel could stay with Sarah. You resign yourself to another month with an empty womb, throwing the test in the bin with fury. 

Tommy phones you that night, fills you in on his day on the jobsite, tells you exactly what he had for dinner, exactly what was on the TV, before he picks up something isn’t quite right on the other end of the phone. 

“What’s wrong, sugar?” His warm voice soothes down the phone pressed to your ear. 

“Nothing is wrong,” Your tone dismissive yet defensive, all at the same time, you sigh, this man knows you more intimately than anyone else, he knows something is wrong, “I took one of those stupid tests and it says it’s time to try again, guess I’m just frustrated that this is another month wasted.” 

He chuckles on the other end of the phone, “It doesn’t need to be wasted.” 

“But you aren’t here.” You point out. 

“Do I have to be?” You’re silent in response, “I don’t physically need to be there to keep an eye on things,” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice, “Or an ear.” 

The coffee you’re drinking splutters from your mouth as you cough, understanding exactly what Tommy is insinuating, “You want me to phone you?” You ask, making sure you’re understanding correctly, “Phone you whilst Joel fucks me?” 

“I sure do, sugar.” 

“And you’re cool with us being here alone?” 

“Shouldn’t I be?” He asks, “Like I said the first time, it doesn’t mean anything, I know he ain’t gonna try anythin’ stupid, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to take what you want from him.” 

“Okay,” You relent after a few moments, “I’ll call him tomorrow, it’s getting late.” 

“Alright sugar,” Tommy replies, “Sleep tight and I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” 

You don’t know why, but it takes hours for you to build up enough courage to phone Joel. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to wait this month out, wait for Tommy so he could be here. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Joel, far from it, but there was something about knowing the love of your life was in the room whilst his brother tried to get you pregnant that put you as at ease with the situation as you could be. 

You’ve spoken to Joel countless times on the phone, but in order to even dial his number, it takes nearly 24 hours and a glass of wine. When you hold the phone to your ear, you almost hang up, but you leave it too long because Joel’s sweet Southern drawl is greeting you. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” You reply, “How are you?” You curse yourself, inwardly cringing at how unsure you sound. 

“Yeah, m’all good over here,” He responds, “You need somethin’?” 

“Well, actually yeah, I do,” You rub at the back of your neck, “I um… I did one of those tests and it says I’m good to go, to like, try again, so yeah, this is me phoning to say that and make a really fucking terrible job of asking if you’d help again.” 

You hear him chuckle on the other end of the phone, “Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, I can be with you in an hour?” 

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good, I’ll see you in a while.” 

“See you soon, pretty girl.” 

Pretty girl? Fucking hell. Joel had always been a flirt, smiles and smirks and little nicknames, but he’d never once crossed the line with you. Knew you had eyes for his little brother, would never get in the way of that. He’d never crossed that line until you’d invited him, point blank to do so. You had to remind yourself that he was only doing you a favour. A really massive, incredibly fucked up favour, but a favour none-the-less, and once that had been achieved that was it. He’d just go back to basically being your brother-in-law, wouldn’t he? 

An hour later, you’d swapped the wine for a glass of whiskey, just like the first time. There’s a tentative knock at the door, which has you downing the last of the liquid before you open the door for Joel. He’s similarly dressed as last time, dark jeans and a flannel shirt open over a dark t-shirt. He’d obviously showered before coming over, hair mostly dry apart from the very ends of his curls. These damn Miller brother’s won the gene jackpot because in the setting sun, Joel is fucking beautiful. 

He leans down, pulling you into a hug, “Evenin’, darlin’,” He whispers into your ear before letting you go, “You gonna invite me in?” He asks, when you don’t move to let him in. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry!” You exclaim, stepping back, “Come on in.” 

When you close the door behind him and turn around, you can feel the tension in the air. He’s wandering aimlessly through the open living space, standing with his hands in his pockets. It’s weird. You can feel the butterflies settling into your tummy already. 

“You know, you don’t need to make me feel good, right?” You muse, stepping from foot to foot by the door, “You can just fuck me and leave.” 

His head drops as he snorts through his nose, “Darlin’, I can’t in good conscience let you conceive a child if you don’t come at least twice.” 

“But….” 

Joel interrupts, “Answer me this, pretty girl,” He growls, “If I were Tommy right now, how many would he give you?” 

You think for a moment, “Probably three,” You shrug, “Once with his fingers, once with his mouth, then he’d make me come on his cock.” 

He smirks, knowing you’ve proven his point, “Well then, get that pretty ass over here and let me make you feel good.” 

He’s holding out a hand for you, coaxing you to come towards him, which you take gladly, suddenly feeling like you’re in some weird form of trance. He takes your hand in his, leads to you the couch and sits down. You’re standing in front of him, his face level with your tummy. He takes those wide palms and drags them up the backs of your legs, under the material of your dress to settle on the supple skin of your ass. 

“I gotta call Tommy,” You speak quietly, “Wanted to listen in.” 

“You can call him in a minute,” Joel’s voice is commanding as he kisses your tummy through the material of your dress, “Let me give you one first, get you nice and relaxed, yeah?” 

Joel puts his palms on your hips and turns you around, puts his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and drags them down your legs. When they pool at your feet, you step out of them, Joel’s hands keeping you balanced before he’s pulling you down onto his lap. He’s got his legs closed together, yours straddling either side of his. One of his hands is pressed on your tummy, pulling you flush back into him, the other is already snaking between your thighs, held open by his legs in the middle. 

You take a deep breath, and let yourself sink into his body, broad chest acting as a weighted comfort. His lips start to trail hot kisses down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder as he runs his fingers down the seam of your pussy. Joel’s fingers dip just below, and you hear him gasp and then chuckle when you’re already wet. 

“Pretty girl,” He coos into your ear, “You been thinkin’ about me? Thinkin’ about how good I made you feel last time?” 

You don’t reply, just tip your head back to rest on Joel’s shoulder, sighing in pleasure as he drags his fingers through the folds of your pussy, fingers brushing ever so gently across your clit, “So fuckin’ wet for me, darlin’,” He groans, letting his fingers dip back down, “So wet, so easy for me to do this.” 

He slips two fingers inside your pussy with ease, immediately hooking them in just the right way that has you keening, hips bucking in time with his slow thrusts. The hand he had on your tummy is moving downwards now too, dragging slowly across your mound until he’s got his middle finger touching your clit, two fingers still buried inside you. 

“Joel – fuck – Oh God.” You moan, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit now, setting your skin aflame. 

“You like that, huh?” His lips are still trailing hot kisses along the skin of your neck and shoulders, “Can feel that pretty pussy clenchin’ around my fingers already,” You can feel his smirk on your skin, “Gonna be so easy to finish you off, pretty girl.” 

He proves his point in minutes. His fingers begin speeding up, thrusting into your aching heat, curling just right to his that spot inside you, whilst his finger doesn’t let up with its tight circles across your clit. 

“I’m gonna – fuck Joel, I’m gonna come.” 

“That’s it baby girl,” His voice is low and you can feel his solid cock under your ass already, “Let go for me.” 

You do just that. Thighs shaking, Joel’s name falling from your mouth as your first orgasm slams right into you. He’s pulled his fingers from your pussy, walls clenching around nothing, but his fingers are still tracing those gentle movements along your clit, working you through the aftershocks. Once he’s sure he’s milked you for every second of your orgasm, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Up you get.” He taps his hand on your thigh, helping you to stand. 

He switches your places, you sit on the couch, legs spread with your wet cunt on display, him dropping to his knees in front of you, hooking your legs over his shoulders. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth presses a soft kiss to your clit that has an obscene moan dropping from your lips. 

“Phone him,” Joel murmurs against your skin, motioning to your mobile phone on the side table, “Bet he’d love listening to you gettin’ your pussy ate.” 

You push yourself up just far enough to be able to grab your phone, fumbling with the keys as Joel continues to press teasing kisses along the skin of your thighs. You hit dial on Tommy’s number, listening as it rings three times before he picks up. 

“Hey sugar.” He greets. 

Joel can obviously hear his brother’s voice, because he chooses this moment to take his tongue and lick a wide stripe up your sex with the flat of his tongue, dipping between your folds to flick your clit. 

“Hey baby,” You reply, looking down at Joel’s face between your legs, “Your brother is here.” 

“That so?” You can hear him shuffling about on the other end, “You wanna tell me what he’s doin’?” 

Joel uses one of his big hands to spread your pussy open for him, taking his tongue all the way down to your weeping core, where he literally drinks from you, lapping up your slick like he’s gone forty days and forty nights without water. 

“He’s got his face between my legs Tommy,” You groan, “Eating my pussy so fucking well for me.” 

“Let me hear you, sugar,” Tommy coaxes, “He makin’ you feel good?” 

Joel’s tongue works its way up your pussy, tracing circles over your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. You let out an obscene moan down the phone, hips moving towards Joel’s face to chase more. You need more. You want more. His mouth needs to be closer to you. 

“So good baby,” You moan, free hand tangling in Joel’s hair, as he focuses all the attention of his tongue to your clit, “He’s going to make me come.” 

“Go on baby,” Tommy speaks, you can hear the clinking of his belt in the distance, and you know exactly what he’s going, “Let go for him.” 

Joel doesn’t even have to add his fingers to the equation this time. He wraps those perfect lips around your clit and sucks, tongue still flicking desperately over the sensitive bud, and you’re gone. Body arching off the couch, thighs clasped around his face as you cry out. You can hear Tommy on the other end of the phone chuckling, coaxing you through it, telling you what a good girl you’ve been. 

Joel finishes between your thighs with a final kiss to your clit before he’s pushing himself up off the floor. You’re taking deep breathes, pulling the phone from your ear to put Tommy on speaker phone, setting the phone back down on the side table while you stand, shedding your dress to leave you completely naked in front of Joel. He eyes you as he takes off his own clothes, letting out a low whistle, turning his head to the phone. 

“Fuckin’ hell brother,” He comments, letting a low whistle out, “You’re a lucky son of a bitch, getting to see her naked like this every day.” 

The tinny reverb of Tommy’s voice barking a laugh down the phone makes you smile. The way these two men have opened up and worshipped you, both in their own ways, but worship none the less, makes you feel like a goddess. Makes you swell with pride. You watch intently as Joel sheds the last of his clothes, letting your eyes drag over every inch of skin he reveals to you as each second passes. Then, once he’s as naked as you are, cock sprung to attention, he sits himself back down on the couch, guiding you to straddle his hips. 

“Gonna take what you want from me, pretty girl?” Joel asks, looking up at you with those big brown eyes, his big hands are guiding your hips, head of his cock nudging through the wetness of your slick cunt to push ever so slightly inside you. 

You let yourself sink fully down onto him, throwing your head back as that feeling off fullness you remember from last time. Joel drags his hands up your body, resting both on your ribcage, head coming forward to capture one of your tits in his mouth, sucking a nipple into his mouth to shower attention to it with his tongue. 

You grind your hips into his own, reveling in the way his palms squeeze your sides, teeth sinking into the skin of your breast. You settle your arms around Joel’s neck, one hand tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck as you lean back a little, hips grinding into his. The angle has you grinding your clit into his skin in just the right way. 

“Fuck,” He hisses, pulling himself away from you, “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” He teases, “I can feel that cunt clenching my cock baby.” 

You can hear Tommy groan on the phone, “Sugar, you’re so easy to please.” He speaks out from the side table. 

Joel’s hands grip your hips, guiding you to keep grinding on his cock like you are. It’s overwhelming, there is no other thought in your mind right now other than chasing the next high you can feel building in your lower body. Focused on nothing but grinding your body into Joel’s solid presence underneath you. Focused on listening to Tommy continuously praise you for being a perfect girl for them both. 

“Tommy, fuck-” Joel breathes out, “I wish you could see her right now; she looks so fuckin’ good bouncing on my cock.” 

“Brother, I get to see her like this all the time,” He groans, “You enjoy her for yourself right now.” 

“Joel- please…” You beg, orgasm so close you could reach out and touch it, “I’m so fucking close.” 

“Go on, pretty girl,” Hands on your ass to continue the guiding of your movements, “I know you can do it for me.” 

And he’s right. He’s always fucking right. You grind yourself into him a few more times before white spots burst into your vision, and you feel yourself let go in a way you’ve never known before. Slick dripping down Joel’s cock, a literally scream on your lips as he pulls your body to his, finally slamming his cock into your tight cunt in earnest. 

“There’s three, baby girl.” He whispers into your ear, just for you to hear. His brother doesn’t need to know he’s issued himself a personal challenge to make you come more than he does. That’s just for the two of you to know. 

Your forehead is rested on his, cock stilled inside you to give you a moment to gather yourself. When you look into his eyes there’s something in those brown orbs, something daring you to lean forward. Press your lips to his own and let him devour you entirely. Let him have every piece of you. You almost do it, then you hear Tommy moan on the other end of the phone, breaking the spell between you and Joel. 

Something snaps behind his eyes. He gathers you, flipping you over until he has your legs hooked around his elbows, pussy spread for him, bent almost in half before he slams his thick cock into you, setting a bruising pace that has your breath hitching in your throat. It’s so hard and intense that tears are gathering in the corners of your eyes. The sounds of Joel’s skin slapping against you and his groans, your high-pitched whines drown out any noise that Tommy might be making over the phone. 

“Don’t worry,” Joel manages to breath out, seeing the tears dripping down your face, “Gonna give you what you need, hot mama.” 

“Please,” You beg, the sound hitting your own ears, weak and pathetic and truly at this man’s mercy, “Fill me up Joel, fuck a baby into me.” 

“Touch yourself,” He demands, “You got one more for me, I know you do, pretty girl.” 

It takes all your strength to do as he asks, fingers seeking out your clit. The touch you place to it is blurring the line between pleasure and pain, but when Joel is looking down at you like he is now, watching his cock split you in half, watching your face as you moan, touching yourself, you resign yourself to keep going, chase one more high with him. 

He drops one of your legs from its place hooked around his elbow, big hand coming to rest over your tummy, “Fuck Tommy,” He calls out, clearly only moments away from coming deep inside you, his fingers stroking the soft skin as his eyes train on your belly, “She’s gonna look so good when I finally knock her up for you, all swollen and perfect.” 

It’s the image that finishes you off this time. You close your eyes tight, pulling your hand from your clit as soon as you’re arching up into Joel, calling his name into the dark of the room, hands gripping at his biceps, nails forming perfect half-moons in his skin.  

“Good girl,” Joel praises, “Gonna fill you up now baby, you ready for me?” 

“Give it to me,” you demand, hands flying to grip the cheeks of his ass, bringing him in closer to you, “Joel please.” 

You don’t need to ask twice. Joel stills inside your spent cunt and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He rests his head on your chest, pulling in as much breath as he can, before he’s groaning, pulling himself out of you. He leans over and picks up the phone, taking it off speaker to hand it to you, then he disappears to the kitchen. 

“You okay, sugar?” Tommy asks, voice soft at the other end of the phone. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” You mumble, closing your spread legs and bringing them up to your chest, trying to keep as much of Joel’s cum inside you as possible, “Tired.” 

“Did so good for us again, didn’t you?” You smile, responding with a quiet ‘mmm hmm’, “Yeah that’s right, so good for me sugar,” He clears his throat on the other end of the phone, “You make sure Joel gets you to bed alright?” Another response that’s just a noise from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You mumble a goodbye and hang up the phone, just in time for Joel to appear with a glass of water. He sits on the edge of the couch, helping you to sit up so you can take big gulps of the liquid. One of his hands is settled on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. 

“Y’alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” You smile, “Tommy says you have to put me to bed.” 

Joel chuckles, “Course he did,” He stands, taking the almost empty glass from your hand before he slips one arm under your knees, the other across the small of your back, lifting you easily from the couch, “Come on then.” 

He walks you up the stairs and into your bedroom. You’re warm and pliant and you smile as he pulls the duvet up and over you, settling you into bed with a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, “I’ll see you in the morning, pretty girl.” He muses as you drift off to sleep. 

Joel lifts himself from the bed when your breathing settles, stopping briefly to look at you from the doorway before he heads back downstairs and dresses himself. He pours himself a glass of Tommy’s finest whiskey, letting his head drop to the back of the couch. He would stay tonight, downstairs, just in case you needed someone. Just in case you woke up and needed someone to soothe you. He didn’t know how Tommy had been last time once he’d gone home but he bets you needed the comfort. Someone to tell you it would be alright, that you’d done the right thing. It takes all his strength not to stand, strip his clothes back off and settle himself in bed behind you, strong arms wrapped around you to keep you safe. Make you feel secure. He would stay here tonight, just in case you needed him. 

[a-moth-called-mof]

No actually I'm going to say. I honestly think that was such a satisfying and fitting epilogue for something as unqiue as the dream smp. Maybe its vague about certain things and maybe it wasn't a picture perfect happy ending but it felt so satisfying, not just because of the original shit nuke ending and the way the server originally just slowly faded (although that contributes) but also, because it's a representation of the dream smp itself saying goodbye to its fans. Jack being the point of the view character is so fitting because he's been there since the early days and it makes it so that for once, we get to see C! Tommy from someone else's point of view without his own perspective offered. And that's so fucking impactful. When C! Tommy asked Jack where he'd been and that he hadn't seen him in a long time, he was talking to C! Jack sure but he was also talking to the viewers themselves by extension. The image of C! Tommy silently standing there and treating Jack, the point of view character of the viewers, like an old friend is so haunting and comforting in a way words can't express.

And then there's just the entire theme of grief and moving on that's present throughout the entire thing? C! Jack and Tommy both reminisce about how much the SMP impacted both of them. They look on at C! TECHNO'S HOUSE as they talk about how despite all the shit it put them through, a part of them misses it and longs to be back there again because there were things there that were fun and that meant something to them. It's so fitting on a metatextual levels. The characters are reminiscing about the SMP's old days "before everyone left" and so are the content creators through the characters but also, so is the audience. The viewers. The old fans who clung on. The fans who who didn't. The fans who, despite everything the server put them through, still wanted to tune into a livestream for even a chance of seeing it again.

I just feel like the stream represented so many of us. When C! Jack says he didn't like the person he was back then but that doesnt mean he was bad, I just feel like that encapsulates so many of us during the pandemic. Like many (I think?), I used the dream smp as escapism. I was in a really bad place and I was avoiding most of my irl friends. I hate who I became during those times. But also. I had so much fun. I would tune into streams every day and scroll tumblr and the fandom made me feel so happy and included and I loved the inside jokes and I loved the characters and I loved the streams and I loved everything and a part of me still misses that. I was avoiding everything in my life and I was so isolated but I was so full of excitement and bliss and fun when I would tune into those streams. I've kinda spent the past 2 years lowkey hating who I was. But this stream, C! Jack's line and reflection specifically, genuinely made me realise that maybe I shouldn't idk view my old self so negative and that he (who I was) was probably just trying his best during a tough time even if his choices weren't always the most functional. That I've improved and that that's okay and good even. And that maybe just because I like who I am now doesn't mean he was bad.

Idk there's also something about C! Tommy telling C! Jack he might never see him again and C! Jack telling him that that's okay (also again image of C! Tommy looking at the viewer's point of view and telling them he'll probably never see them again...). There's just something about growing up and how you kind of lose contact with some people and how that's normal and it's okay and it happens and how that ties back into some of the dream smp's themes about growing up. But also there's a bit of grief there and that's okay. Idk there's something so visceral about the last piece of media about the dream smp literally being about grief and moving on and about how the characters literally say goodbye to eachother after everything but also about how that's okay. Idk I wonder how many people feel similarly

To conclude this, I feel like the moment in the stream that hit me the most was CC! Jack being happy he let go of the manishroom (and the server by extension) and that he's moving on but then later saying "I didn't like letting go of the mushroom. Felt like I wanted to cling onto it forever" and something about that just hits. Idk there's something how the characters both feel such a unique pain and longing for the old times in universe and how that reflects how the audience and streamers themselves feel and there's something about how I genuinely don't think something that wasn't as accidental and beautiful and messy and painful and earnest and flawed and unique as the dream smp could ever capture that feeling. And I think I love it for that. And I think I love the epilogue for representing that. And I think the dream smp said I love you and goodbye to its viewers with that epilogue and I think I said it back.